A-fter the Saturday night,
N-ew dawn Sunday breaks;
A-iming to erase the pain, even the tears and heartaches.
E-arly morn fifth February,
L-ight comes from the beacon;
I-n the heat of the noontime,
C-olor pink umbrella is
O-n.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem