I'll make my little houses
From the Mississippi mud-
And wash my hands both in your tears
And go on like I should.
If I die before I wake-
You'll go on, I trust,
Making pretty houses
From my pretty little dust.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'I'll make my little houses From the Mississippi mud' I would love to hear more about the Mississippi. Your poems leave me wanting to know more.