School Poems That I Can

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List of Poems

Tears, Idle Tears Avatar Karm (Duty) Fire and Ice A Poison Tree The Road Not Taken O Do Not Love Too Long Love and Power The Indian Serenade Kabir ke Dohe (Kabir's Couplets) Where the Mind is Without Fear Not in Vain Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening Hope is the thing with Feathers Confessions of a born spectator Time Aur bhi doon (To give some more) The horseshoe nail Jeevan nahi mara karta hai (Life - it does not die... Shakti aur Kshama (Strength and Mercy) Success is counted sweetest Ozymandius Khooni Hastakshar (Bloody Signature) Partition If (Dac / Yadi)

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MAVERICK

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WEDNESDAY, JUNE 11, 2008

Tears, Idle Tearsby Lord Alfred Tennyson Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy Autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more. Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more. Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns The earliest pipe of half-awakened birds To dying ears, when unto dying eyes The casement slowly grows a glimmering square; So sad, so strange, the days that are no more. Dear as remembered kisses after death, And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feigned On lips that are for others; deep as love, Deep as first love, and wild with all regret; O Death in Life, the days that are no more

Posted by Maverick at 11:45 AM 2 comments Labels: Tennyson

FRIDAY, MAY 16, 2008

AvatarPoet: Ved Vyas Yada yada hi dharmasya glanir bhavati bharata Abhyutthanam adharmasya tadatmanam srjamyaham Paritranaya saadhunam vinashaya cha dushkrrtam Dharm sansthapnarthaya sambhavani yuge yuge (from the epic poem Mahabharata) : ( ) Hindi version - Translation: Anonymous (Loose translation - transformation of first person to third person) Translation: The Maverick O Bharat! Whenever, wherever dharma is corrupted, on the decline And adharma takes hold, I manifest myself, in an avatar mine For the deliverance of the virtuous and for destruction of evil For the establishment of dharma in every era, I become possible

Posted by Maverick at 11:01 AM 0 comments

Labels: Hindi, Sanskrit, Vyas

SUNDAY, APRIL 27, 2008

Karm (Duty)Poet: Ved Vyas Karmanyevadhikaraste ma faleshu kadachan Ma karmfalheturburma te sangostvakarmane Translation: The Maverick You are entitled only to your assigned actions, Don't hanker for the fruit of your labor Do not think you caused the results, And never from doing your duty waver

(from the epic poem Mahabharata) : ( )

Posted by Maverick at 1:57 PM 2 comments Labels: Sanskrit, Vyas

S U N D A Y , M A RC H 2 3 , 2 0 0 8

Fire and IcePoet: Robert Frost Some say the world will end in fire, Some say in ice. From what I've tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire. But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate To know that for destruction ice Is also great And would suffice.Posted by Maverick at 1:52 PM 0 comments Labels: Frost

S U N D A Y , F E B R U A R Y 1 7 , 20 0 8

A Poison TreePoet: William Blake I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow. And I watered it in fears Night and morning with my tears, And I sunned it with smiles And with soft deceitful wiles. And it grew both day and night, Till it bore an apple bright, And my foe beheld it shine, And he knew that it was mine And into my garden stole When the night had veiled the pole; In the morning, glad, I see My foe outstretched beneath the tree.Posted by Maverick at 1:40 PM 0 comments Labels: Blake

SATURDAY, JANUARY 26, 2008

The Road Not TakenPoet: Robert Frost Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.Posted by Maverick at 11:32 AM 1 comments Labels: Frost

M O N D A Y , D E C E M B E R 3 1, 2 0 0 7

O Do Not Love Too LongPoet: William Butler Yeats Sweetheart, do not love too long: I loved long and long, And grew to be out of fashion Like an old song. All through the years of our youth Neither could have known Their own thought from the other's, We were so much at one. But O, in a minute she changed O do not love too long, Or you will grow out of fashion Like an old song.Posted by Maverick at 4:40 AM 0 comments Labels: Yeats

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 30, 2007

Love and PowerPoet: "Gurudev" Rabindranath Tagore Power said to the world, "You are mine."

The world kept it prisoner on her throne. Love said to the world, "I am thine." The world gave it the freedom of her house. (excerpt from his long poem "Stray Birds")Posted by Maverick at 9:07 AM 0 comments Labels: Tagore

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 03, 2007

The Indian SerenadePoet: Percy Bysshe Shelley I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright. I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet Has led me -who knows how? To thy chamber-window, Sweet! The wandering airs they faint On the dark, the silent stream The champak odours fail Like sweet thoughts in a dream; The nightingale's complaint, It dies upon her heart, As I must die on thine, O beloved as thou art! Oh lift me from the grass! I die! I faint! I fail! Let thy love in kisses rain On my lips and eyelids pale. My cheek is cold and white, alas! My heart beats loud and fast; Oh press it close to thine again, Where it will break at last!Posted by Maverick at 4:41 PM 0 comments Labels: Shelley

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 14, 2007

Kabir ke Dohe (Kabir's Couplets)

Poet: Kabir Guru gobind dou khade, kaake lagoon paay Balihari guru aapne gobind diyo batay Kabira te nar andh hai, guru ko kahate aur Hari roothe guru thaur hai, guru roothe nahi thaur Jo toko kaanta buve, taahe bov tu phool Tohe phool ko phool hai, taahe hai tirsool Tinka kabahu na nindiye, jo paanv talle hoye Kabahu udi aankh pade, peer ghaneri hoye Bada hua toh kya hua, jaise ped khajoor Panthi ko chhaya nahi, phal laage ati door Bada na hove gunan bin, birad badai paye Kahat dhatoore so kanak, genhu gariyo na jaye Aisi baani boliye, man ka aapa khoye Auran ko seetal kare, aapahu seetal hoye Bura jo dekhan mai chali, bura na milya koi Jo man khoja aapna, mujhse bura na koi

Translation: The Maverick Guru and God both are here to whom should I first bow All glory be unto the guru path to God who did bestow O Kabir, that man is blind who doesn't understand the guru If God's angry, guru's the refuge no refuge for one who angers guru For those who sow thorns for you you should sow a flower For you flower's a flower but for them it's a spear dour Don't insult even a speck though it's under your foot Think how painful it'd be if it flew into your eye like soot Having stature is not enough if one's like a tree of date No shade to tired trekker fruit's too high up to eat No one's great without qualities howmuchever they may be praised Thornapple is called gold wheat it still can't replace Speak in words so sweet that fill the heart with joy Like a cool breeze in summer for others and self to enjoy I searched for evil and I could find none Then I looked inside found the biggest one

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Labels: Hindi, Kabir


WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 15, 2007

Where the Mind is Without FearPoet: "Gurudev" Rabindranath Tagore Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high; Where knowledge is free, Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls; Where words come out from the depth of truth; Where tireless striving stretches its arm towards perfection; Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit; Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought and action Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.Posted by Maverick at 11:53 PM 1 comments Labels: Tagore

SUNDAY, JULY 01, 2007

Not in VainPoet: Emily Dickinson If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain; If I can ease one life the aching, Or cool one pain, Or help one fainting robin Unto his nest again, I shall not live in vain.Posted by Maverick at 7:12 AM 0 comments Labels: Dickinson

FRIDAY, JUNE 01, 2007

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy EveningPoet: Robert Frost Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year. He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound's the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake. The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.Posted by Maverick at 7:08 AM 0 comments Labels: Frost

SATURDAY, MAY 12, 2007

Hope is the thing with FeathersPoet: Emily Dickinson Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune without the words, And never stops at all, And sweetest in the gale is heard; And sore must be the storm That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm. I've heard it in the chilliest land And on the strangest sea; Yet, never, in extremity, It asked a crumb of me.Posted by Maverick at 2:35 PM 2 comments Labels: Dickinson

T H U R S D A Y , M A Y 0 3 , 20 0 7

Confessions of a born spectatorPoet: Ogden Nash One infant grows up and becomes a jockey Another plays basketball or hockey This one the prize ring hates to enter That one becomes a tackle or center I am just glad as glad can be That I am not them, that they are not me With all my heart I do admire Athletes who sweat for fun or hire Who take the field in gaudy pomp And maim each other as they romp

My limp and bashful spirit feeds On other people's heroic deeds Now A runs ninety yards to score B knocks the champion to the floor Crisking vertebrae and spines Lashes his steed across the line You'd think my ego it would please To swap positions with one of these Well, ego it might be pleased enough But zealous athletes play so rough They do not ever in their dealings Consider one another's feelings I'm glad that when my struggle begins 'Twixt prudence and ego, prudence wins When swollen eye meets gnarled first When snaps the knee, and cracks the wrist When officialdom demands Is there a doctor in the stands? My soul in true thanksgiving speaks For this modest of physiques "Athletes, I'll drink to you, Or eat with you Or anything except compete with you Buy tickets worth their radium To watch you gamble in the stadium And reassure myself anew That you are not me and I'm not youPosted by Maverick at 5:21 PM 1 comments

Labels: Nash

SUNDAY, APRIL 15, 2007

TimePoet: Percy Bysshe Shelley Unfathomable Sea! whose waves are years, Ocean of Time, whose waters of deep woe Are brackish with the salt of human tears! Thou shoreless flood, which in thy ebb and flow Claspest the limits of mortality, And sick of prey, yet howling on for more, Vomitest thy wrecks on its inhospitable shore; Treacherous in calm, and terrible in storm, Who shall put forth on thee, Unfathomable Sea?Posted by Maverick at 5:06 PM 0 comments Labels: Shelley

TUESDAY, MARCH 13, 2007

Aur bhi doon (To give some more)

Poet: Ram Avtar TyagiMan samarpit, tan samarpit Aur yah jeevan samarpit Chaahtaa hoon desh ki dharti tujhey kuchh aur bhi doon

Translation: The MaverickSoul is yours, body is yours And my whole life is yours Motherland, I want to give you something more Mother my debt to you is great, I'm tiny

Ma tumhara rin bahut hai, mai akinchan Kintu itna kar raha phir bhi nivedan Thaal mein laoo saja kar bhaal jab bhi Kar daya sweekar lena wah samarpan

Even so, here's my humble request When I bring my sacrificial head Please do accept the modest bequest Songs are yours, spirit is yours

Gaan arpit, Praan arpit Raqt ka kan kan samarpit Chaahtaa hoon desh ki dharti tujhey kuchh aur bhi doon Maanj do talwaar, lao na deri Bandh do kas kar kamar par dhaal meri Bhaal par mal do charan ki dhool thodi Sheesh par asheesh ki chhaya ghaneri Swapn arpit, prashn arpit Aayu ka kshan kshan samarpit Chaahtaa hoon desh ki dharti tujhey kuchh aur bhi doon Todta hoon moh ka bandhan, kshama do Gaon mere, dwar, ghar, aangan kshama do Aaj seedhe haath mein talwaar de do Aur bayeen haath mein dhwaj ko thama do Yah suman lo, yah chaman lo Need ka tran tran samarpit Chaahtaa hoon desh ki dharti tujhey kuchh aur bhi doon

Every drop of my blood is yours Motherland, I want to give you something more Whet the machete, don't delay Tie the shield securely to my belt Your blessings be my armor, and On forehead, some dust from your feet Dreams are yours, questions are yours Every breath of my existence is yours Motherland, I want to give you something more Breaking the bonds of love, and I beg pardon Village, home, farm of mine, I beg pardon Today, just give me a sword in the right And in my left give me the banner emblem Take this flower, take this garden Every twig of my nest is yours Motherland, I want to give you something more

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Posted by Maverick at 2:28 PM 1 comments

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 08, 2007

The horseshoe nailPoet: George Herbert For the want of a nail The shoe is lost For the want of a shoe The horse is lost

For the want of a horse The rider is lost For the want of a rider The battle is lost For the want of a battle The kingdom is lost And all for the loss Of a horse shoe nailPosted by Maverick at 1:24 PM 2 comments Labels: Herbert

SUNDAY, JANUARY 14, 2007

Jeevan nahi mara karta hai (Life - it does not die)

Poet: Gopal Das "Neeraj" Chhip chhip ashru bahaney walo Moti vyarth lutaney walo Kuchh sapno ke mar jaaney se Jeevan nahi mara karta hai Sapna kya hai, nayan sej par Soya hua aankh ka paani Aur tootna hai uska jyon Jaagey kachchi neend jawani Geeli umar bananey walo Doobey bina nahaney walo Kuchh paani ke bah jaaney se Saawan nahi mara karta hai Maala bikhar gai to kya Khud hi hal ho gai samasya Anshoo gar neelaam huey toh Samjho poori hui tapasya Roothey diwas mananey walo Fati kameez silaaney walo Kuchh deepon ke bujh jaaney se Aangan nahi mara karta hai Khota kuchh bhi nahi yahan par Kewal jild badalti pothi Jaise raat utaar chaandni Pehne subah dhoop ki dhoti Vastr badalkar aaney walo Chaal badalkar jaaney walo Chand khilono ke khoney se Bachpan nahi mara karta hai Laakhon baar gagriyan phooti Shikan na aayi par panghat par Laakhon baar kashtiyan doobi Chahal pahal woi hai tat par

Translation: The Maverick O thee who stealthily shed tears Who waste these pearls of their eye If some dreams cease to be Life doesn't end, it doesn't die What's a dream? Just a dew-drop On your eye, amidst a siesta deep And its dissipation is as if Youth is woken-up mid-sleep O thee who make their lives moist Who bathe, but don't immerse, o why If some water flows out and away Monsoon doesn't end, it doesn't die So what if the beads scattered The problem is resolved per se If your tears are auctioned off Then your penance is complete O thee who spend their days glum Who sew their torn shirts and cry If some lamps get extinguished The porch stays, it doesn't die Nothing gets lost here The book changes its cover Like the night peels moonlight In the morn to be sun-ray lover O thee who change clothes and come Who go, but in new pomp and style If lost is the moon you thought a toy Childhood doesn't end, it doesn't die Many, many pots n pails have broken Not a crease on the well's face o muscle Many, many boats have sunk The shore has the same hustle-bustle

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Labels: Hindi, Neeraj


THURSDAY, DECEMBER 07, 2006

Shakti aur Kshama (Strength and Mercy)

Poet: Ramdhari Singh "Dinkar" Kshama, daya, tap, tyaag, manobal Sabka liya sahara Par nar vyagh Suyodhan tumse Kaho kahan kab haara? Kshamasheel ho rrpu-saksham Tum huye vineet jitna hi Dusht Kauravon ne tumko Kaayar samjha utna hi Atyachar sahan karne ka Kufal yahi hota hai Paurush ka aatank manuj Komal hokar khota hai Kshama shobhti us bhujang ko Jiske paas garal hai Uska kya jo dantheen Vishrahit vineet saral hai Teen divas tak panth mangte Raghupati sindhu kinare Baithey padhtey rahey chhand Anunay ke pyaare pyaare Uttar mein jab ek naad bhi Utha nahi saagar se Uthi adheer dhadhak paurush ki Aag raam ke shar se Sindhu deh dhar trahi-trahi Karta aa gira sharan mein Charan pooj daasta grrhan ki Bandha moodh bandhan mein Sach poochho to shar mein hi Basti hai deepti vinay ki Sandhivachan sampoojya usika Jisme shakti vijay ki

Translation: The Maverick Mercy, resolve, tact, tolerance You've tried everything and some But o my king of men When did Suyodhan succumb? The more forgiving you were In your humane compassion The more these rouge Kauravas Pegged you as cowardly ashen This is the consequence Of tolerating atrocities The awe of machismo is lost When one's gentle n kindly Forgiveness is becoming of The serpent that's got venom None cares for the toothless, Poisonless, kind, gentle one For three days Lord Raam kept Asking the ocean for a passage Sitting there he petitioned Using the sweetest words to engage When in response there was Not a whisper from the sea A raging fire of endeavor Rose from Raam's body The ocean took human-form 'N supplicated to Raam Touched his feet, was subservient A slave he had become Truth be told, it's in the quiver That lies the gleam of modesty Only his peace-talk is reputable Who is capable of victory

Sahansheelta, kshama, daya ko Tabhi poojta jag hai Bal ka darp chamakta uskey Peechhey jab jagmag hai

Tolerance, forgiveness and clemency Are respected by the world Only when the glow of strength From behind it is unfurled

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THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 16, 2006

Success is counted sweetest

Poet: Emily Dickinson Success is counted sweetest By those who ne'er succeed. To comprehend a nectar Requires sorest need. Not one of all the purple host Who took the flag to-day Can tell the definition, So clear, of victory! As he, defeated, dying, On whose forbidden ear The distant strains of triumph Burst agonized and clear!Posted by Maverick at 7:41 AM 2 comments Labels: Dickinson

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 11, 2006

OzymandiusPoet: Percy Bysshe Shelley I met a traveler from an antique land Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert... Near them, on the sand, Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed; And on the pedestal these words appear: My name is Ozymandius, King of Kings, Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair! Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away.Posted by Maverick at 7:38 AM 2 comments Labels: Shelley

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 09, 2006

Khooni Hastakshar (Bloody Signature)

Poet: Gopal Prasad Vyas : ? ? Wah khoon kaho kis matlab ka Jisme ubaal ka naam nahi Wah khoon kaho kis matlab ka Aa sakey desh ke kaam nahi

Translation: The Maverick Of what good is the blood That can't come to a boil Of what good is the blood That can't protect the soil Of what good is the blood That's not rife with rage 'n anger The blood that flows not free Is not blood, it's water

Wah khoon kaho kis matlab ka Jisme jeevan na ravaani hai Jo parvash mein hokar behta hai The battle of freedom is not Wah khoon nahi hai paani hai fought on money, be sure Commitment to supreme Us din logon ne sahee sahee sacrifice Khoon ki keemat pehchaani is on barenecks endured thi Jis din Subhash ne Burma The day blood got appreciated mein When people realized its price Maangi unsey qurbaani thi Was the day Subhash in Burma Bole swatantrata ki khatir Asked them for sacrifice Balidaan tumhe karna hoga Bahut ji chuke ho jag mein He said for your freedom Lekin aage marna hoga You'll have to make a sacrifice You've lived enough in the Aazadi ke charno mein world jo jayamaal chadhai jayegi Now death is freedom's price Vah suno tumhare sheeshon ke In so saying the speaker's phoolon se goonthi jayegi Eyes had become blood shot Face had acquired blood's hue Aazadi ka sangram kahi Blood-red body glowed, so Paise par khela jata hai? hot Ye sheesh katane ka sauda Nange sar jhela jata hai He raised his hands, declared Give me your blood, come Aazadi ka itihaas kahin And in fair exchange Kaali syaahi likh paayi hai I will give you freedom Isko paane ko veero ne

Posted by Maverick at 9:59 PM 7 comments Labels: Hindi, Vyas

TUESDAY, AUGUST 15, 2006

PartitionPoet: W.H.Auden (the poem tells of how Sir Cyril Radcliffe was sent to fix the borders of the new countries) Unbiased at least he was when he arrived on his mission, Having never set eyes on the land he was called to partition Between two peoples fanatically at odds, With their different diets and incompatible gods. "Time," they had briefed him in London, "is short. It's too late For mutual reconciliation or rational debate: The only solution now lies in separation. The Viceroy thinks, as you will see from his letter, That the less you are seen in his company the better, So we've arranged to provide you with other accommodation. We can give you four judges, two Moslem and two Hindu, To consult with, but the final decision must rest with you." Shut up in a lonely mansion, with police night and day Patrolling the gardens to keep the assassins away, He got down to work, to the task of settling the fate Of millions. The maps at his disposal were out of date And the Census Returns almost certainly incorrect, But there was no time to check them, no time to inspect Contested areas. The weather was frightfully hot, And a bout of dysentery kept him constantly on the trot, But in seven weeks it was done, the frontiers decided, A continent for better or worse divided. The next day he sailed for England, where he could quickly forget The case, as a good lawyer must. Return he would not, Afraid, as he told his Club, that he might get shot.Posted by Maverick at 9:00 PM 0 comments Labels: Auden

WEDNESDAY, JULY 12, 2006

If (Dac / Yadi)Poet: Rudyard Kipling If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you But make allowance for their doubting too, If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise: If you can dream - and not make dreams your master, If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools: If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breath a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!" If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you; If all men count with you, but none too much, If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son! Romanian version - n Limba Romna Translation: Anonymous

Dac te poti stpni, cnd norodul din jur se frmnt, Brav nfruntnd insolentul repros, cu liniste sfnt, Dac-ti pstrezi, n virtute, credinta si-ncaleci sfiala, Cnd se ndoieste de tine multimea, si-ti ierti ndoiala Dac astepti cu ndejde si nu te rpune-asteptarea, Dac minciunii, stpn pe lume, i spulberi chemarea, Dac asaltul mniei te las senin, fr ur, Dac psesti peste dorul de-a fi cel dinti, cu msur Dac te leagn visul, dar strui stpn peste vise, Dac din gnduri mrete renunti s-ti faci teluri prezise, Dac cuvntul, izvor de ispite si cruntul dezastru, Nu-s pentru tine oprelisti, nici vsle in drumul spre astru Dac suporti s auzi, despre spusele tale cinstite, Gnduri jelene, scornite de ri, pentru gloate smintite, Dac din opera s-au ales doar ruine si spatii, Singur, cu scule stricate, de poti s-o refaci, din fundatii Dac pierznd, ntr-o clip de risc pe o sans, avutul, Poti s ncepi, de la capt, uitnd n tcere trecutul, Ferm adunnd cu rbdare, ntregul pe lung durat, Fr s sufli o vorb, de pierderea grea ndurat Dac superb prin voint fortezi, cnd ti vine sorocul, Inima, capul, tria, s nu si astmpere jocul Gol de puterea vietii, urmndu-ti destinul spre tinte, Tare, cu vrerea din tine, ce-ti spune mereu nainte! Dac multimilor poti s vorbesti cu deprinderi egale, Dac, constant, ti pstrezi modestia si-n cercuri regale, Dac esti vulnerabil, la prieteni, la cei cu pornire, Dac pe toti i stimezi ndeajuns, ns nu peste fire Dac momentul cumplit al prpdului crncen si mare Calm vei putea s-l asemeni, n timp, c-un minut oarecare, Lumea cu tot ce cuprinde va fi stpnit de tine, Tu, peste toti vei rzbate : om al puterii depline ! Hindi version - Translation: The Maverick

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