At the foot of the mountain, I stood,
Which now, I had to climb,
I had just wanted to walk before,
And this mountain was my find.
I started with my small steps
and I recalled what they had told,
Of the view of the world from above,
And the climbers who were measured in gold.
With efforts untold I reached some height,
Looked behind me, below me, to feel the chill,
So far above the world, now, I stood,
The only option I had was to climb this hill.
A tricky stone or two left me aghast,
In the smallest moment, my feet left the ground,
From so near to the peak I could taste victory,
Like a useless rock I came tumbling down.
Bruised and broken, within and without,
At the bottom I lay, looking up,
Now I just wanted to climb this devil,
Because with it I had fallen in love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ahhh your comment truly made me understand Rishabh; a wonderful analogy of it's meaning you have created.