Your eyes have stayed, engraved on the others,
his sweet witchcraft, turned over to look,
there is light in your pupils, of all states,
I see that in my soul, I see them blinking.
For they are counting, the happy hours,
who pass by me, rhyming a song,
they are open eyelids, they are petals of roses,
that offer two stars, to my desolaci? n.
Gypsies are perhaps, by their flashes ?, Tell me,
or are they in some fashion, prey to Spanish?
there is something in your gaze that kills or redeems,
who cry or who moans, when the sun dazzles.
Pu'les at night, they stand angry,
looking for the poor breast, with the desire to nail,
string hearts, leave them dying,
to mirrors where the soul, looks to flirt.
INTERMEDIATE
They encircle your pupils, the light that animates us,
it is lost among the stars, and the constellation,
they acquire new brightness, although my chest moans,
by seeing them always open, I give my heart.
For they are counting, the happy hours,
who pass by me, rhyming a song,
her open eyelids, are rose petals,
that offer two stars, to my desolaci? n.
Gypsies are perhaps, by their flashes ?, Tell me,
or are they in some fashion, prey to Spanish?
there is something in your gaze that kills or redeems,
who cry or who moans, when the sun dazzles.
Pu'les at night, they stand angry,
looking for the poor breast, with the desire to nail,
string hearts, leave them dying,
to mirrors where the soul, looks to flirt.
Only among all we can make this a better place :)