I'm sorry I didn't stop talking, and try to tell you

What the ring is, the triple-stranded

Gold-serpent curled diamond and ruby-eyed ring

That I wear left-handed on the little finger, and love well.

It was my wife's grandfather's the grandfather I never knew,

Augustus Bluhm, a rich man, who lived richly, his clothes,

Guns, food, houses, and horses and jewelry the best,

And his generosity equal to it, Of all the rest,

I have now only this ring, and his grand-daughter,

Doris my wife, who gave it to me at our engagement,

When I gave her a ring, she gave me this for mine.

Gus Bluhm made his money on horses and tracks.

The family always lived in hotels, Chicago, Europe.

When he made big winning, he gave his wife diamonds.

Big ones, bracelets, pendants.

Doris wanted her diamond in a Tiffany setting,

The same design my mother had, though she did not know that.

I'd never worn rings of any sort, so my new one

Seemed conspicuous, large, flashy, I thought

everyone noticed it. When anyone asked, if anyone asked,

I said it was an antique, which is true.

It is an old-fashioned finger-ring for elegant gentlemen,

It must be that I am partly old-fashioned

And maybe that I would have liked Gus Bluhm's life,

That lavishness, the hotels, the German-American heartiness.

My mother-in-law still worships him, he must have been

An extraordinary man. Last year I met an old-timer

Who remembered the name, Gus Blum, yes, an old-timer.

Whatever it was Gus did to make the money,

Apparently he did it right, my old-timer respected the name.

Papa Bluhm had three daughters, Effa, Edna, Gerladine,

And left them all his money, which has become less new

But I have the ring,

And Doris,

And Doris had Evan,

And that makes the triple strand.