Sing Auld Lang Syne,
for the dollar;
For the dollar, that now
Is dead
Courtesy of banks,
so fallow
With compliments
of the Fed.
Sing Auld Lang Syne
for the country
That stood for justice
and peace.
But now keeps in mind
the leaf on the vine,
And the fields of
Poppies, so deep.
Sing Auld Lang Syne
for the dreams,
That nourished a world,
yet asleep:
That has woken now,
and garlanded it's brow;
And that's taking our Torch
for keeps.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem