F-ly and soar so high,
R-ise above the crowd;
A-im for the shining star,
N-ever mind the dark cloud.
C-hilling rain has turned
I-nto a warm sunny Sunday;
S-ee the beautiful beacon that takes the mist away.
O-n the twenty-seventh of August,
L-oss disappears into gray;
I-t's time to taste the triumph,
V-ictory is not far
A-way.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great poem about victory is not far away.
Thanks, Lamar... for such kind comment👍👍👍