D-o let your wings fly over,
H-igh above the ground;
E-arly Sunday morning,
N-ight shadow isn't found.
D-o let your wings fly
O-ver the mountain high;
N-ineteenth day of March
Q-uests for the bright sky.
U-ncanny and unexpected
I-nclement clime is there;
L-et your faith stay firm,
L-et your wings fly
O-ver.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Enjoyed this beauty.++10
It’s inspiring to read your comment, Robert🤓🤓🤓🙏🙏🙏