Trece Lunas Y Un Laberinto

Whisper in the ear, bend the wall,
paint in violet what cannot be seen.
Cover thirteen moons, dream,
sleep on the old mountain.

Ah, I saw a fire grow that opens on its own.
Ah, I saw a fire grow that opens to the Sun.

Counting the stones, she arrives,
talks to the flowers nearby,
kisses the loose words
and looks at the horizon and plays.

Where the sky remains standing
and all this cold calms down,
I will be, I will be kissing your days, I will be.