The quiet boy from Tupelo
set tubes aglow with cotton-pickin’
hound dog caterwaul,
how he slung that guitar
they say he could barely play
like a shotgun.
The way he rolled
those hips black-and-white,
you could tell
color was coming.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Color me blue.......................