E-arly Monday morning,
L-ight rises above the horizon;
E-vening shadows disappear, dark is brought to oblivion.
C-oal clouds sixth of March
H-ave all become white;
A-ll fogs clear the air,
V-iew has set things aright.
E-ven if the world is truly fraught with fret;
Z-one of joy is here, the dog is your pet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem