Classic Poem

Gorgio lad, my tribe are waiting.
Here at your garden's gate we part.
The Romany heart with the road is mating,
The caravan's ready to start,
And it's I that must wander, wander, wander.
Gardens a-many with never a wall
Are blossoming back of the skyline yonder.
Gorgio lad, they call!

Strong are your arms, but the wind is stronger.
It blows me out as the dust is blown.
Love as I may, I can stay no longer.
Dreaming at dusk alone
It's I will be sighing, sighing, sighing
Seeing your eyes in the campfire's glow,
But—this is the call there is no denying.
Gorgio lad, I go.

Heart to my heart once more—then let me
Slip from your world as the sunset goes.
Just as a falling star, regret me,
Just as a fading rose,
For it's I must be roving, roving, roving
At the will of the wind between earth and sky.
There are butterfly wings on a gypsy's loving.
Gorgio lad, good-bye.