You are becoming less
They say,
A black moth
Butterfly.

How pretty you do look
Against all those sounds from the beach.

Your hair blows in the wind
And God,
You do look radiant with that sun
At your back,

My black moth
Butterfly,
My beloved image of
Beauty.

The smell of cotton candy
Through the folds of your dress---
So white,
So clean,
So pure…

A brilliant smile;
Your long brown hair surrounds
Your pretty face,
Your pretty
Black moth
Butterfly
Face,
My beautiful, beautiful
Image of love.

Do not listen to those bees,
You pretty thing!
You innocent thing!
With fair skin and dark eyes,
With a glimmer in the way you speak
Utter silence.

All the colors in the world
Could not compare to the way
That teardrop shines on your lovely,
Rosy cheek,
Do not cry, my beloved one!
Do not cry…

My black moth
Butterfly…
My black moth
Butterfly…