I have no worry of the stains,
Who hasn’t gone crazy in such a scenery?
Clouds are drunk, showers of wine,
A Cupid I see at a brewery,
A moon is sleeping in her bed room,
The sun has forgotten his chivalry,
The moon is hidden beneath silky shawls,
Stars are there as diamond jewelry,
It’s a naughty drop of rain that crawls,
Touches and snatches her from a fairy,
She awakes, she is a doll made of clay,
Comes to me with her all hot treasury,
She is a bottle of wine, drink and play,
My woman with me, no need of brewery.
Soothing is the mud, the washing rains,
Clay in love of clay, no worry of stains.