K-iss the rain goodbye,
I-t's a lovely Saturday;
M-ist and haze are gone, as well as fog fades away.
C-old chill March eleventh
H-as vanished into thin air;
I-n the brewing storm,
Q-uest for a fine weather.
U-nderneath the blue sky,
I-t's a burning beacon;
L-et the flag raise up high,
L-et the Indian woman go
O-n.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem