L-et Sunday beacon shine,
U-nderneath the blue lane;
I-n spite of the cold chill,
S-unrise replaces the rain.
I-t's a beautiful morn,
T-wenty-ninth of January;
O-ne birthday is remembered with much mirth and glee.
S-hadows have disappeared,
A-s the day has broken;
D-awn has just started
D-elightful moment
I-n the mountain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem