Stumbling at the balls they threw,
The masters lose their spirit;
For the bowlers like Imran,
The Indian team was a treat.
One by one they gave in,
Falling to the foreign ferocity a prey;
The pavalion revealing the tensed Indians,
When another made out his way.
'Look, he's just a kid.'
The teenagers would murmur;
Who knew he would grow up,
To be 'The Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar'.
He endured the balls that others fret,
In a zest to tackle them..
This 16 year old tailender,
Wasn't playing for tidbit of fame.
With every match in the series,
Always striving to making India win;
Scoring a century though being hit in the face,
He induced on everyone's face- A flush of pink.
Excelling in his poise and tactics,
Pioneer all through 24 years,
He became a nightmare to the bowlers,
His 'square cut' was all they feared.
Making record of records,
An idol in the realm of cricket,
To the bowlers that would debut,
His wicket was the ticket.
Not just in cricket scores,
This maestro rocked the cradle;
His compassion and tranquility soothing everyone,
Made him worthy of the medal.
When it comes to devote your life,
To your cause; to your passion,
The Master Blaster is a relevant example;
To anyone who seeks inspiration.
People die and people are born,
But quite a few are reverred;
In the hearts of our hearts dwells our hero;
Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem