When Grandmother comes to our house, 
She sits in the chair and sews away. 
She cuts some pieces just alike 
And makes a quilt all day. 
I watch her bite the little thread, 
Or stick the needle in and out, 
And then she remembers her grandmother's house, 
And what her grandmother told about, 
And how a very long ago-- 
She tells it while she cuts and strips-- 
We used to live in Mary-land, 
And there was a water with ships. 
But that was long before her day, 
She says, and so I like to stand 
Beside her chair, and then I ask, 
'Please tell about in Mary-land.'                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    