I-nclement clime turns fine,
S-unlight brings a thrill;
A-llow the beacon to rise up,
A-fter the night cold
C-hill.
V-ile weather has turned
I-nto a red and orange sky;
L-ight on twentieth February
L-ets the pouring rain pass by.
A-spire for the holy land,
R-einvigorate your soul;
I-n spite of the tribulation,
N-othing is impossible.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem