SHE'S back to work again; I'm awful glad;
When she was sick it seemed to me as though
The clocks all got to goin' kind of slow,
And every key she pounds looked kind of sad.
It's tough to have to hear her coughin so--
I wish that I could take her cold and she
Would know I took it, and not have to blow
Her nose no more, and be as well as me.
She takes some kind of cough stuff in a spoon,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem