Here is my paraphrase of an inspiring poem that we were required to recite in our school long years ago.
The poem, ‘Say not the Struggle Naught availeth’, was written by Arthur Hugh Clough. 1819–1861. You can find the poem from the book, “Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900” at Bartleby.com
1.Don’t throw up your hands, in despair. Don’t throw in the towel, no, not yet. Don’t mutter under your breath, that the struggle you have waged, the wounds that you have suffered and the pain that you have endured, have all gone in vain.. Don’t decide for yourself, that your onslaught has not made any dent on the enemy,– that he continues to be invincible.Don’t conclude yet, that things remain bleak, hopeless.
2. True, your hopes have turned to be false. But remember,your apprehensions may be unfounded too. Be bold, be persistent. It could be that without your knowledge, beyond your view, the enemy is fleeing, his tail tucked in.Your friends far off, are at this very moment chasing them , having already secured the battle-field.
3. The river here seems sluggish, stagnant, still, But look behind yourself. Tiny streams and rivulets are relentlessly, swiftly advancing, quietly eroding or by-passing all the thickets, all the impediments along the way, avidly joining together, — to flood the river, to clear the muck to overwhelm the miasma.
4.You look forward towards the east listlessly, for the dawn. The light however insists on seeping in, languidly . The sun looks tardy. He clambers over the horizon. ever slowly. But turn around and look. Lo! The land is already lit up, bright. It glitters, it glistens. It’s dawn.