If a friend should seem in the end Neither friend nor foe but so-so, If itís hard to make out beyond doubt What the guyís all about - Drag him right to the mountain heighrs, And do not let him from your sight, When youíre tethered together you can Bet youíll know your man - If he saw the peaks soar without awe, When his nerve seemed to fail, turned tail, Felt the ice underfoot go crack, Shrieked and stumbled back! Then a stranger strides by your side, Talkís no use, you just turn him loose, Not for him were the peaks designed, Donít sing here of his kind. But if he kept from crying, not one whine, If he sulked, grew withdrawn, but went on And when from the cliff you fell, Then he groaned, but he heid! If you both marched to fight the heights, Stood drunk there on the summitís ais, Then depend on your friend for help, As you would on yourself.
© Brigit McCone. Translation, 2015