Boro mushis an’ bitti mushis sometimes kaum covvas that waver mushis don’t jin.

TRANSLATION.

Once a Gipsy made much money, and was very rich and a great gentleman.  His coat was silk, and the buttons on his coat were of gold, and his horse’s bridle and reins were all silver.  One day this Gipsy gentleman was eating (at table) opposite to the king’s son, and they brought in a pheasant that smelt badly, but all the people said it was excellent.  “Bless me, God!” said the Gipsy gentleman softly (whispering) to his wife, “you and I have eaten dead meat (meat that died a natural death) many a time, my dear, but never smelt anything so bad as that.  It stinks worse than a dead horse!”

Great men and small men sometimes like (agree in liking things) that which other people do not understand.

GUDLO XXIV.  THE GIPSY AND THE “VISITING-CARDS.”

Yeckorus a choro Rommany chal dicked a rani hatch taller the wuder of a boro ker an’ mukked adovo a bitti lil.  Then he putched the rakli, when the rani jessed avree, what the lil kaired.  Adoi the rakli pukkered lesco it was for her rani ta jin kun’d welled a dick her.  “Avali!” penned the Rommany chal; “that’s the way the Gorgios mukks their patteran! We mukks char apre the drum.”

The grai mukks his pirro apre the drum, an’ the sap kairs his trail adree the puv.

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 adree the wesh tale the bori rukkas, mandy putched a tikno chillico to latch mandy a bitti moro, but it jalled avree an’ I never dicked it kekoomi.  Adoi I putched a boro chillico to latch mandy a curro o’ tatti panni, but it jalled avree paul’ the waver.  Mandy never putchered the rukk parl my sherro for kek, but when the bavol welled it wussered a lay to mandy a hundred ripe kori.

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.