Nueve Lunas

They told me that I will have to wait for nine moons, and while I look at you, moon, I am making a cradle of love and happiness and a foam rattle for when you want to arrive. They told me about nine moons and I don't know why, but when I look at you, moon, I see a pregnant face

-FIRST-
She gave me two kisses in the bedroom yesterday, my Lola told me I am a pregnant ear of corn... after so much time of loving each other in a thousand ways, we both cried for nothing and we touched wood, just in case it's not true... We are both crazy, both crazy, I found a small dress in a drawer, and just in case it's a boy, some little pants. And I look at the moon and the moon always the same, I keep making the cradle and a foam rattle for when you want to arrive

-SECOND-
She looked in the mirror yesterday, I saw her talking to herself, her life has changed... she dreamed many times that she had him in her arms and then it wasn't true, that's why it seemed like he would never come... And I leave work, I leave work, time passes so slowly, my Lola looks so beautiful in her loose dress. And I look at the moon and the moon always the same, I keep making the cradle and a foam rattle for when you want to arrive

-THIRD-
Five moons have passed and while I make the cradle, the ear of corn remains pregnant... Maybe it's because of spring, when nobody tells her, the moon will light it up so the ear of corn in her belly can flourish. Happiness burns us, happiness, and we already give it a name without knowing what it will be, when I touch it, it hides as if wanting to play... And I look at the moon and the moon always the same, I keep making the cradle and a foam rattle for when you want to arrive

-FOURTH-
Today I found my restless Lola, like the waves that come happily... The moon is full now and a Jesus on her bedside table, the cradle is finished, and I saw a little basket with her things inside... From that pregnant ear of corn, from my pregnant ear of corn, they brought me to my cradle a sweet early morning, the fruit of nine moons from that pregnant ear of corn... And I look at the moon and the moon always the same, I have made a cradle and a foam rattle for when you want to play