If the gypsies come,

They are crying in the forge,

and shows lubricious and pure,

The boy is in the forge;

The air is at the viewing.

in her bustle of flowering nard.

The moon is climbing through九*九*藏*書 the sky

"Moon, moon, moon, run!

The little boy stares at her, stares.

"Let me dance, my little one.

Through the olive grove

come the gypsies, dream and bronze,

calling,九-九-藏-書 calling from its tree!

Oh, how the night owl calls,

her breasts of hard tin.

they will use your heart

dont step on me, all starched and white!"

their hooded eyes.

"Let me be, my lread.99csw.comittle one,

with the child by the hand.

to make white necklaces and rings."

theyll find you on the anvil

drumming on the plain.

The moon came into the read.99csw.comforge

their heads held high,

with your lively eyes closed tight.

his eyes are closed.

all the gypsies, shouting, crying.

The boy is staring hard.

"Moon, moon, m九_九_藏_書oon, run!

The air is veiwing all, views all.

Closer comes the the horseman,

I can feelheir horses come."

When the gypsies come,

In the shaken air

the moon moves her amrs,