Steer far from the fog
Of the gypsy dilemma
The tossing of tarot
The shadow cast from the moon
It is a pretty gold coin tossed
Into still waters
Weary, be you, of the ripples
Steer far from the fog
The Boggs, where toads croak
Cloaked in a prince-like portrayal
Of taking their time
Taking your hand
Charming and calming your rage
To find love in the bramble
The branches that snap beneath your steps
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem