The fortuneteller

She sat with fear in her eyes

Contemplating my upturned cup

She said:

'Do not be sad, my son

You are destined to fall in love'

My son,

A martyr he is, him who died on his beloved’s religion’*

Your cup is a frightening world

And your life is (full of) travels and wars,

You will love many times my son

And you will die many times my son

And you will adore all of the world’s women

And you will return like a defeated king

In your life (destiny), my son, a woman,

Mighty is the worshiped (god)

Her mouth is drawn like a cluster

Her laugh is (like) music and flowers

But your sky is rain-filled

And your road blocked, blocked, my son

(Because) Your heart’s love, my son

Is sleeping in a guarded castle

And the castle is big, my son

Guarded by dogs and soldiers

And your heart’s princess is sleeping,

Him (who) would  enter her chambers is lost

Him (who) would ask for her hand

Him (who) would approach her garden wall

Him (who) would try to unfold her braids

My son..is lost.. Lost

For long have I studied fortune-telling

But never have I read a cup similar to yours

Never have I seen, my son, sorrows similar to yours

You are predestined to walk forever

In love.. On the edge of a dagger

And to stay alone like seashells

And to stay sad like a willow tree

You are predestined to sail forever

In the sea of love, without sails

And to love a million times

And to return like a dethroned king

Your life is forever destined

To be a book of tears

And be imprisoned

Between water and fire

But despite all its pains,

Despite the sadness

That is with us day and night

Despite the wind

The rainy weather

And the cyclone

It is love, my son

That will be forever the best of fates

There is a woman in your life, my son

Her eyes are so beautiful

Glory to God

Her gypsy and crazy love of life

Travels the world

You will seek her everywhere, my son

You will ask the waves of the sea about her

You will ask the shores of the seas

You will travel the oceans

And your tears will flow like a river

And at the close of your life

You will find that since your beloved

Has no land, no home, no address

You have been pursuing only a trace of smoke

How difficult it is, my son

To love a woman

Who has neither land, nor home

*As if the beloved was God - with her own religion