A sailor’s joy is competition,
which is evident in races.
Then it’s not his own volition,
sports events decide the places.
But secretly his aim to win
is a somehow innate trait.
A race can suddenly begin
when he sees a sporting mate.
Then the sails are best adjusted,
the rudder, too, is moved with care,
whoever errs is surely busted,
you give your best, as it’s a dare.
You are better, you are fast,
nobody wants to be the last.
