M-ight be your birthday,
A-ll the clouds turn white;
E-arly light is shining to set everything aright.
O-ne beacon above the horizon
B-egins to shine in the sky;
I-t's a beautiful morn,
S-hadows are passing by.
P-ouring rain and chill are both fading into gray;
O-n the fourteenth of May, might be your birthday.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem