The grai mukks his pirro apré the drum, an’ the sap kairs his trail adrée the pūv.
TRANSLATION.
Once a poor Gipsy saw a lady stop before the door of a great house and left there a card (little letter). Then he asked the girl, when the lady went away, what the card meant (literally, did). Then (there) the girl told him it was for her lady to know who had come to see her. “Yes!” said the Gipsy; “so that is the way the Gorgios leave their sign! We leave grass on the road.”
The horse leaves his track on the road, and the snake makes his trail in the dust.
GUDLO XXV. THE GIPSY IN THE FOREST.
When I was beshin’ alay adrée the wesh tāle the bori rukkas, mandy putched a tikno chillico to latch mandy a bitti moro, but it jālled avree an’ I never dicked it kekoomi. Adöi I putched a boro chillico to latch mandy a curro o’ tatti panni, but it jālled avree paul’ the waver. Mandy never putchered the rukk parl my sherro for kek, but when the bàvol welled it wussered a lay to mandy a hundred ripe kóri.
TRANSLATION.
When I was sitting down in the forest under the great trees, I asked a little bird to bring (find) me a little bread, but it went away and I never saw it again. Then I asked a great bird to bring me a cup of brandy, but it flew away after the other. I never asked the tree over my head for anything, but when the wind came it threw down to me a hundred ripe nuts.
GUDLO XXVI. THE GIPSY FIDDLER AND THE YOUNG LADY.
Yeckorus a tāno mush was kellin’ kushto pré the boshomengro, an’ a kushti dickin rāni pookered him, “Tute’s killaben is as sāno as best-tood.” And he rākkered ajaw, “Tute’s mui’s gudlo sār pishom, an’ I’d cāmmoben to puraben mi tood for tute’s pishom.”