Men for ages
would receive me every spring
My fertile touch would be embraced
And cause their land to bring
A year of food the table laced
And cause their soul to sing
I am the Mississippi
Now I find these earthen gates
hold me back from you
I must complete what He dictates
To “make all things new”
I am the Mississippi
Once more I’ll give the riches
That root in poverty
I’ll wash away the choking vine
And replace the bread with wine
I am the Mississippi
Soon He’ll come to make the world anew
No longer will I wash the banks, with this Golden hue
For then I’ll flow up to a horse’s head
And my waves... will splash with red…
I am the Mississippi
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Not bad Josh. I dig it.