In a blue velvet bag, it came
But carefully pull out its contents
And put it on a silver platter
With a framed photograph
And his collar and best sweater
I mourn the lost of my baby
Over again
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
At first I thought it was about a bottle of Crown Royal (they used to come in velvet bags; I think still do down in the States) An honorable shot for a fallen soldier perhaps. But this poem is obviously very personal. (Cooper? I think his name was?)