She, the girl in the snow landscape of gray, makes a beautiful Caribbean.
She flies through the air, dance like a gentle breeze passing.
She is not like the green of the Caribbean, but as a Latino think.
She walks in white mat, but was born in me as a soft European verse.
She knows where my lair.
When the sun becomes in many colors, I assure you that it can be seen by their letters;
But I see your face neck.
Laughs at my stupidity, but also sports the pace of my naive fitness.
It's beautiful, eats all fresh your eye can see
She is beautiful, always beautiful.
The absence of her beloved
Desires that are kept
Singing in desire