A-llow not the crown to slip away,
L-et your hand hold it tight;
L-onely evening shall fade
A-fter the long chill of
N-ight.
T-wenty-sixth morn in July,
E-nemy wants to grab the reward;
R-un fast to the finish line,
R-eturn not to being off guard.
A-ct to grip the glorious prize,
Z-ealously clench as you pray;
U-se your faith, hope and love,
L-et not the crown slip
A-way.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem