My Nomadic Dream
How beautiful was she?
with cheap ornaments.
Wandering from place to place
and no fixed residence.
My nomadic lass
in this cycle of birth and death
I was running behind you
but you never make a glance at me.
I was mesmerized by your melancholy song.
My Gypsy gem at least tell me your name
or may I call you 'Haughty'?
Anyway, your face already tattooed in my heart.
Dedication for unknown Scarborough Gypsy &
Maxim Gorky for his short story 'Makar Chudra'