Once I met a gypsy man,
an uncut ruby soul.
I wondered of this deep rare shine,
It’s warm but gloomy glow.
I wandered in this deep rare shine.
I tried to find a key
To part the warm wine red from the dark,
In where he looked like me
I found him carry night and day,
Or moments in between,
Where nothing lives without the other,
And nothing is unseen
A silent truth is spoken
Through beauty in a grief:
The ruby is his fate to stay,
and it’s glow his wish to leave.
I wandered in this deep rare shine,
In colours that he wears.
The one who sees is the one who shines,
But still the one who bears
He owns the things he gives away,
And this is what I see,
It’s always there within his eye,
In his eye I mirror me.