L-et twenty-third December
E-rase the Thursday twilight;
N-ew dawn has broken, leaving the chill of night.
I-t's a beautiful Friday,
B-ad weather turns good;
A-s you wake from slumber,
R-eady your delightful food.
R-ise of morning beacon keeps the sea from being rugged,
A-llow the sand to make your body half-buried.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem