Dame fortune is a fickle lady,
She gives a crown to one,
And troubles to another-
She favors whomever.
With no eye for riches
Nor virtue or strength,
Lady Luck favors the lucky
And the lucky alone.

Gold ared her lovely locks
For wealth beyond compare,
Pale is her flawed and tender skin
Like Luna whose change she mimics.
Emerald and rich are her dark eyes
Like the four-leaf clover one seeks,
And sharp are her invisible fangs
That sink into the unlucky man’s throat.

Without remorse for the down-trodden,
Nor an eye for health and heart,
Fortuna will favor the poor or rich
The strong or the meek,
The fair or the hideous,
The good and the evil.
For Dame Fortune is a fickle lady.