The noble mountain, atop his throne,
Of earth and molten lava and stone,
He sits, he thinks, his head so high,
And when people see him they can only but sigh.
But he had a problem, this giant man,
His heart, though he was strong, went further than
As long as the sky, as far as the sea,
And within his contours he could barely breathe.
So one day he hatched a devious plot,
He'd give his heart to a human, though not,
An ordinary man or some simple fellow,
But to one whose mind blew like the bellows.
To a house in the suburbs he gazed with his ocular loam,
And saw a bright man sitting in his lovely home.
2 Children he had to his name,
And to him, they were a source of fame.
The next day the man awoke to the sound of thumping,
So much more than his chest's usual pumping,
He'd been given a gift, though what and who from,
He didn't know from where it had come.
The mountain rested peacefully from there on,
As his great heart found no ordinary pawn,
But a delightful, kind king of great renown,
Who with love and intellect larger than even a mountain was crown.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem