She told me the fat lady sung.
I glum, begged it not to be.
And have these days stumbled
About, quite disheartened.
But today I went to see the gypsy.
A most curious fortuneteller,
With a gift to seeing truths,
Which at first I did not believe.
I was amazed and dumbfounded.
Because though I never spoke of her
Or the world she means to me,
And though the gypsy could not know,
Her words about the Valkyrie,
When the gypsy saw my sad visage
She uttered these amazing words:
“The fat lady has not sung,
And will not sing
Of this you can be sure.”
Now some may call me crazy.
And others a downright fool.
But I believe in signs and gypsies.
And God’s hope at every door.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem hit me on a very personal level, it's beautiful. It brought back that flutter in my heart of when I realized that it isn't over until you give up. I do have to thank you for bringing such a smile to my face. I have a phone call to make to this girl that once loved me.