She likes to tell a tale or two
Of how you met her, and she met you
Develops a pattern in the storyline
On how she became a friend of mine
And when she's done she stirs it up
Making assumptions as she reads my cup
'Tea leaves can tell your future', she said
This Gypsy's not right in the head
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem