E-arly Saturday morning
D-enies the vile weather;
D-awn fourth of March
I-s brighter than
E-mber.
A-llow the beacon to rise,
S-hining above the horizon;
U-nderneath the blue sky,
N-ight is brought to oblivion.
C-old chilling raindrop
I-s nowhere in sight;
O-n the day of your birth,
N-ew light is burning bright.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem