Let the infinite be without stars, or let the wide sea lose its immensity. But let the blackness of your eyes not die, and the cinnamon of your skin remain the same. If I lost the rainbow, its beauty, and the flowers, its perfume and its color, my sadness would not be as immense as that of losing your love. I care about you, and you, and you, and only you, and you, and you. I care about you, and you, and you, and no one else but you. Black eyes, faithful cinnamon, that make me desperate. I care about you, and you, and you, and only you, and you, and you. I care about you, and you, and you, and no one else but you. If I lost the rainbow, its beauty, and the flowers, its perfume and its color, my sadness would not be as immense as that of losing your love. I care about you, and you, and you, and only you, and you, and you. I care about you, and you, and you, and no one else but you. Black eyes, faithful cinnamon, that make me desperate. I care about you, and you, and you, and only you, and you, and you. I care about you, and you, and you, and no one else but you. I care about you, and you, and you, and only you, and you, and you. I care about you, and you, and you, and no one else but you. www.mooji.org