T-wenty-fifth January morn
E-rases the dark night;
T-uesday twilight is gone,
H-aze is swept by the light.
R-ise of the beacon Wednesday
O-bliterates the cold drip;
S-corching sun opens
A-nother bottled water to
S-ip.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem