A-ll the shadows have turned
I-nto Tuesday morning light;
Z-enith meets the dawn,
Y-our birth sets things aright.
A-fter the storm is gone,
V-ile weather does the same;
E-arly twenty-first February
L-ets the fire fuel the flame.
L-et the beacon burn,
A-iming to whiten the cloud;
N-o more haze in the air,
O-ne girl is so proud.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem