E-arly March seventeenth,
D-awn has set Friday aright.
W-eather in the morning
I-s beginning to see the
L-ight.
Z-enith in the blue sky
A-waits the burning beacon;
B-right sun is rising
A-bove the new horizon.
L-et the word of truth be the world's wise choice;
A-llow them all to hear the spokesperson's voice.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem