I run, take off - and what a shame, by heaven!
I hate to stand up, tears in my eyes...
The crossbar at the height of two-eleven1
Has blocked my way up further to the skies.

Now, listen to what I must say:
Life in sport’s always fraught with a flop -
On the top for an instant you stay
And at once tumble down from the top!

Yet of hope so far I am not bereft,
And I’ll hit pay dirt - fame will come in sight!
Take off legs of the others are mainly left,
But my take off leg is not left - it’s right!

I run, take off - fans yell that I’m a lout,
That I am sinking down on and on...
My angry coach put it out loud:
“Instead of high you must be jumping long!

With strained groin you can nothing but hop,
Taking off from the right - it’s a whim!
You will never remain on the top,
Down you’re rolling today at full steam!”

I am choked with wrath - no words are left
After I explained, being quite polite:
“Take off legs of the others are mainly left,
But my take off leg is not left - it’s right!”

I run, take off - the answer is a lemon!
Gasp! This Canadian two-twenty2 has just made.
Again I hit the bar at two-eleven,
And from my coach erupted a tirade -

That I’d be executed that night,
This disgrace mustn’t linger for long,
If I didn’t quit using my right
Take off leg which is shamefully wrong!

But I’d rather commit suicide,
By my coach I’d rather be split and cleft,
Yet my take off leg which is wrongly right
I will never replace with a rightful left!

Fans started laughing, mocking and whatever,
But I collected forces for a blast.
I run, take off, I fly - and two-eleven
From now on belongs all to the past!

I don’t care that my groin aches non-stop,
And for limping the same I don’t care!
I have certainly got to the top
And nobody will push me from there!

I’ve got hold of fame and I’ve won the fight,
Luck remains to me no longer deaf,
‘Cause my take off leg which is wrongly right
I did not replace with a rightful left!