In the most Cypriot of traditions,
I met a woman who has visions,
At the bottom of a coffee cup,
She sees what goes down, what goes up.
Wrinkled and with oceans in her eyes,
She predicts joys, she predicts cries,
After the brew I drank and took in,
She let it out; will I lose, will I win?
As the cup I laid down,
She look in whit a frown,
And said \"an evil eye lies on you,
Set by three men, or maybe two.\"
Words of caution uttered she,
About those who friends, will not truly be,
News will reach me in these days,
Causing concern in big waves.
She continued with her words,
The crow\'s song muted the birds,
Of an illness, I shall I hear,
Asking on who, I managed to dare.
When she twisted the cup in her hand,
More enlightening became the strand,
With grand wealth I\'m about the play,
And my wings will take me far, far, away.
But the most powerful of all signs,
Was a shape that above all shines,
A heart of purest love,
Resting on me as a gentle dove.
She said \"you are always in their thoughts,
Ignoring all failures, all your naughts,
A love so immense and pure,
For you, all pains they will endure.\"
With a hug and a kiss goodbye,
I wondered, does she know, or does she lie?
Wondering who this person could be,
I knew one day I would see.
The morning of the following day,
Mother called early to say,
\"You are always on my mind,
I will never leave you behind,
The extent of my love you\'ll never understand,
Forever, I will hold your hand.\",
And with this armour on my chest,
I am powerful, I can face all the rest.
And only God is the master of my fate,
And I am blessed, His strength is great.