C-louds may all turn dark,
H-aze may shroud the day;
E-very star may not shine, still there are words to say.
E-arly Sunday May fourteenth,
S-un may not show the light;
T-he rugged wind may blow hard,
R-eminds you still there's line to write.
E-ach dream may not come true,
L-ove may turn into strife;
L-ook, there's still air to breathe,
A-ll is not lost in life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem