A-pril fourth early morn,
N-ight turns into a day;
N-ew dawn has broken,
A-iming to light the way.
C-oal clouds up above
A-re all becoming white;
N-o more mist in the air,
L-ovely sunrise is in sight.
A-fter the dark disappears, the shadows are torn;
S-ee the beautiful beacon, April fourth early morn.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem