M-ind is pleased no end,
E-arly eighth of January;
L-ove fills your heart, letting you feel much glory,
C-hoose to be pleased no end,
R-efrain from being sad;
I-n spite of the situation
S-o lonely and bad.
S-ee the beautiful morn,
A-im at rays that ascend;
R-ise up and watch the beacon,
T-ill your eyes are pleased no
E-nd.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem