Pouring rain and cold chill
A-re both nowhere in view;
Z-enith awaits the sunrise to make the skyline blue.
V-ile weather has turned
I-nto a blessed January;
L-et Friday the thirteenth
L-eave the 'jinx of being unlucky'.
A-bove the wide horizon,
N-ew light starts to ascend;
U-nderneath the open lane,
E-vening shadows end.
V-icious curse is not found, coming up roses instead;
A-ll systems go on your birth, everything going in red.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem