M-isty air early Saturday
I-s nowhere in sight;
R-ise of the sun begins,
A-fter the long cold night.
M-orn twenty-fifth February
A-ims to meet the dawn;
D-ay has just broken,
R-ays come from the beacon.
O-pen your eyes to warmth,
N-o more vile weather;
E-nding the chill of rain,
R-ugged wind is
O-ver.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem