The road to greatness
Is not lined with roses
Or paved with gold
It may be a road
Over unbridged rivers or streams
Or lined by piercing thorns
Where we shout with our bandaged tongues
Tread with our weary feet
And our tortured smiles
The way may be long
Or it may be short
But if you must catch your destination
Don't falter
And when you see great violets and chrysanthemums
At some point on this way
Go on for this is not
The end of the road.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem