The žiav me pro ušalin,
Ajt' mange lašavo na kin.Sar e praytin kad' chasarel,
Save šilc barvâl marel,
Pal basavo te prasape,
Mre čajori mojd kâmâle.""Cross upon a grave so small
Here I see thy shadow fall,
If it fall on me they say
All my shame will pass away.As the autumn leaf is blown,
By the wind to die alone,
Yet in shame and misery,
My baby will be clear to me!"There is a belief allied to this of the power of the dead in graves to work
wonders, to the effect that if any one plucks a rose from a grave, he or she
will soon die. In the following song a gypsy picks a rose from the grave of
the one be loved, hoping that it will cause his death:--
"Cignoro hrobosa
Hin sukares rosa
Mange la pchagavas,
Doi me na kâmavas.Beš'las piranake,
Hrobas hin joy mange,
Pchgavas, choč žanav
Pal lele avava
Te me ne brinzinav.
The me počivinav.""On her little tomb there grows
By itself a lovely rose,
All alone the rose I break,
And I do it for her sake.I sat by her I held so dear,
Now her grave and mine are near,
I break the rose because I know
That to her I soon must go,