R-ays of the burning beacon
A-re shared by the fine weather;
M-orning mist passes by
O-n twentieth
N-ovember.
L-ights of the shining sun
E-rase the dark shadow;
B-ecause of the red crimson
E-verything is far from sorrow.
L-et the day of your birth bring a thousand thrill;
O-pen your eyes to mirth made by the Maker's will.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem