J-ust can't help greeting you,
E-xpressing my joy;
S-imply because of your birthday,
S-eems like the weather won't
A-nnoy.
M-y greeting is a poem,
A-n acrostic in form;
E-arly fifteenth of July, the morn doesn't sense a storm.
A-ll I have to do is greet you,
B-ecause it is my pleasure;
I-t's also my obligation
T-o bring mirth and rapture.
U-nderneath the blue sky,
N-ight fades into the blue;
A-nother dawn has broken, I can't help greeting you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem