God bless America, Kate sang
And I cried over and over
Listening to my little record player
Each time, they were shocked
To see it happen again
Land that I love, she sang
And my tears flowed like a spring
I felt a flush of embarrassment
But I couldn't stop doing it
What is it with the little child?
Just three years old,
From where, all that emotion
Scratching the record with each repetition
The well worn forty-five
But I always had to hear it once more
Nobody knew me like you did
Nobody else saw me that way
This is a completely self serving grief
But now when I hear Kate
I cry, because you are gone-
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem