From Cowden to Gotebo and on to Cordell
Desolate old farmsteads dot the country side
A special place where buffaloes used to roam
Now it is a great place to dream and joyride
Where fields of wheat can still smell sweet
And purple sunsets light up the western sky
This is an area where Old Glory is still honored
A fact that is always obvious to any passerby
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem