They glare at me maliciously...
They doubt me and my actions...
They spread rumours about me,
And stir up the waves while my boat is sailing!
Its mast is straight...
Its sails are strong.
And its timbers are cut from the tree of self-confidence,
Which the winds of gossip cannot uproot,
And whose branches the storms of vice cannot break.
My boat...
Will arrive, God willing,
Because I have a date with history.
**
