January is quiet and mild, sleep
a river whose banks lies between the snow as my sick body, my body is sick ...
are stretched along the plain white file fields,
are like trees blacks after the adventure lovers tired, tired blacks trees ...
is February, and the world is headed down, but the streets and in residential
without pain and dressing Harlequin goes crazy carnival, the carnival goes crazy ...
Winter is still long, but in the heart appears in the early days of hope
sick sun dance in the spring, the spring dance ..
Singin March brings his rain, fog, the veil,
brings snow melted in the rice irrigation channels of the thaw, the thaw of the rice ...
Fill the cup, and with winter throws penance vain,
time the wing beats too fast, look at it, is far away, look at it, is far away ...
or days or months to go away forever, like you always this is my life.
Unlike every year, but every year the same,
the hand of tarot cards that you never know to play, play that you never know.
With long days devoted to sleep in April is the sweet,
what secrets found in you the poet who called you cruel, cruel calling you ...
But in your day it's nice to fall asleep after making love,
as the earth sleeps at night after a sunny day, after a sunny day ...
Ben May and the banner is my friend, so be it spring, the new love
throw away the old in the 'shadow of the evening in the' shadow of the night ...
Ben May is, well be that the rose is the flower of the poets,
while singing with my guitar and toast in place Thunderbolt, Lightning and toast in place ...
June, the year that you're mature, you thank God
in your day under the hot sun, there I was born, I was born there ...
And with the harvest you have in your hands you take your treasure, your ears
with gifts to man 'bread, the girls' gold, to the girls' gold ...
or days or months to go away forever, like you always this is my life.
Unlike every year, but every year the same,
the hand of tarot cards that you never know to play, play that you never know ...
With long days of bright colors here in July, the lion,
rest, drink and the world around appears like a vision, like a vision ...
Do you work in August, your tired in the long idle hours
never like now it's nice to smell the wine and heat, wine and heat ...
September is the month for a rethink on years and on the 'age
after the' summer brings the gift of used perplexity, the confusion ...
You sit and think about the game and restart your identity, as
brucian sparks fire in your possibilities, the possibilities ...
do not know if everyone understands your beautiful October:
in tanks must prepare a full belly as fat and drunk, and drunkenness must prepare ... Along
my mountains, clouds like birds fleeing sad crazy
my mountains along the copper-colored, low clouds, smoke, smoke low clouds ...
or days or months to go away forever, like you always this is my life.
Unlike every year, and every year the same, the
hand of tarot cards that you never know to play, play that you never know ...
Cala Nov. serious and disturbing fog covering the gardens, the gardens along
devoted to the tears we celebrate the dead, we celebrate the dead ...
the rain falls, and your face wet with dew drops
you also, one day, will change its luck in the mud in the mud ...
And as I fall asleep in a lethargy, December, your gates, your days
along with the mind I scatter seeds of death, sad, sad seeds of death ...
Men and leave things to the floor thin shadows lazy, but in your day
the prophets said the tiger was born Christ was born Christ the tiger ...
or days or months to go Always on, always like you this is my life.
Unlike every year, but every year the same,
the hand of tarot cards that you never know to play, you never know
game play that you never know, you never know which play
play that you never know, you do not know never play ...
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