G-ray clouds don't gather,
H-aze and fog fade away;
E-arly Sunday morning
N-ever evades the new day.
A-s February nineteenth break,
Z-enith awaits the beacon;
U-nderneath the blue sky,
E-vening chill is gone.
L-et the weather today remain fine and well;
A-im to reach your goal, as you ride a bicycle.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem