Prophetic Gypsy

In her dark hair

A bunch of hoary flowers are twinkling

Like a Meissa at a dusky twilight

Her wrinkled eyes laced with

Faint passions of perished night

Holding my hand, murmuring

She introduces me to sky

Hymns stream her faded Yemenite

Like a stylish silk scarf

Time to begin a journey

Through tracks of my destiny

A cross on the Mount of Venus

Brings me a prince

From another galaxy

Swirling in a helix

My future bursts from magical ball

Floods bleed from

Her coral, cracked lips

Now,

In my dark hair

A red rose is twinkling

Inherited from

A prophetic gypsy