E-arly morn ninth of April
M-akes the Sunday sublime;
B-eautiful beacon comes up,
E-rasing the twilight
T-ime.
G-ray clouds don't gather,
U-nderneath the blue sky;
R-aindrops have vanished,
A-s the cold chill passes by.
N-ew dawn has broken,
G-iving a thousand thrill;
O-ne light is in view, early morn ninth of April.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem