A-s you wake from slumber,
N-ew dawn starts to break;
N-ight chill disappears,
E-ven the sorrow and ache.
G-ray clouds don't gather,
E-ighteenth day January;
R-ise of the sun begins,
O-n Wednesday morning glory.
M-ist Tuesday is gone, haze has done the same;
O-pen your heart and keep the glow of the flame.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem