The wild woman called Luna Belocionado

My lips quiver to speak of her too plainly

For she’d been born under a white shadow

And she’d laughed at the mountain vainly.

It was said as she grew older that she knew

The ways and words of the wolves and stars

She could speak to the forest and listen too

She’d played and broken bout twelve guitars.

In the nights she’d dance with wicked souls

And then she’d ride those mountain ridges

Tonight she climbs and then down she rolls

Oh she sings about the crossing of bridges!

Her voice is the melody of a meteor shower,
In her voice I seek my cosy bower,
To fall asleep tonight.