Without rest.
Or sleep to get.
I live to better best,
What it is I do.
And this competition,
I have with myself,
Has never sought competitors.
Since this to do will still not prove,
What is done at their best.
Will put at rest,
What I feel is better...
To do and still not be pleased.
Knowing I am left,
Unsatisfied.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem