M-ake Wednesday morning
A-ble to bring warm light;
R-ays above the horizon
S-tart to rise after the night.
T-wenty-first December
R-eplaces the Tuesday sorrow;
E-ndless lane up above
L-ives through high and
L-ow.
C-old chill and raindrops
A-re nowhere to be found;
S-hadows have disappeared
T-oward the deepest ground.
I-nclement clime is over,
L-etting the beacon shine;
L-oneliness turns into joy
O-f the yellow skyline.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem