Once the pansies deceived me.
Two young blighters – maybe three -
called my name and told me this:
„The best fortune-teller is
someone who is very close
- the queen of us – scarlet rose.”
I was courious. That is why
I met the rose. I said : „Hi!
„Sweetheart , what will hap me soon?
‘Cause you predict the fortune
tell the truth. Ready to serve?
She said: „What! You have a nerve!”
Then this garden, scarlet rose
right adopted lofty pose
like a queen on golden throne
and said something in this tone:
„Mistake! Wrong address and way!
You made me blue. So I say.
Divination is folk job!
For the planet, for the glob
I am noble garden’s dweller.
That is why, the fortune-teller
doesn’t suit to my prestige!
But … just for you – as you wish -
I will forecast something true.
Read my lips! Look! I am sure.
Soon the sewer visit you.”
I asked: „What for and why her?"
She said: „To make the repair
because you have torn - dear friend -
on my spines, your lovely ... pants. "