Play me a gypsy melody
on a sweet mandolin.
Let it make me cry a bit
to fit the mood I'm in.
Gathered 'round the campfire
with the stars above.
Let the sparks from the flame
reach the one I love.
The fortune teller among you
take hold of my hand.
Tell me if you see for me
a golden wedding band?
If you don't it's okay.
I've been hurt before.
I'll cry along with the mandolin
that plays for a heart that's sore.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem