Me and my pony hooked up on the Chicago Eastside and went for a ride,
we grabbed a corndog in Springfield and pulled our way on to Route 66.
In Oklahoma we sat with an Indian chief, watching movies while lovers kissed,
and turned a collar to a Cadillac ranch in Amarillo, blue lips and fresh Texas snow.
No Hot dog, jumping frog, Albuquerque passed in a desert Gallup through New Mexico,
how we grinned standing on a corner in Winslow Arizona, it was such a fine site to see.
A thousand stars shot ancient arrows, sleeping safe under the Joshua Tree,
a Sunset Motel, the story ends, me and my pony dream of doing it all again
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem