Make a wish on the night of
Saint John to the star that crossed the sky
Because I know that there is nothing, nothing like it.
I want to feel your warmth feel your warmth
I want to sleep to the love of your skin
I want to feel your warmth
Notice you around
I want to sleep to the love of your skin.
I want to light the fire, quench my thirst
In the dunes and in the moon of his back and
From my chest, me.
I want to be your even-leaf clover
And your odd daisy, to be a witness
Of your dreams because I know there is no
There is nothing, nothing like feeling its warmth .

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