D-awn December twentieth,
A-s the bright rays ascend;
N-ew hopes whisper and soar,
T-ill the shadows
E-nd.
B-irthday is indeed worth
R-emembering every year;
U-ntil the last twilight,
L-ife's woes will disappear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A brilliant acrostic, sir Bernard.