It was her birthday.
Chinese dinner was done.
Eagerly she broke the cookie:
out fell not one but two paper strips.
'Oh', cried her friend,
'double fortune! '
Picking up the first
she smoothed it out and read-
blank, it said nothing.
'No news, good news, ' said the friend.
Dropping the first, she read the second.
'Fortune is what we make of Fate.'
Her face fell. It being her birthday,
she wanted a better fortune.
'I'll take that, ' smiled her friend
stuffing the wad in a pocket
like it were something important.
'Waiter, can you bring some tea? '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem