Nueva

I'm going to have to write something
Wind on the moon and the long feeling
Without lament darkness arrives
Lines are from a blind Mustafa

Reincarnates and leaves eternity
Without knowing what it was
That neatness wants, goes and carries
From a thousand races a full passion

Holy trail that flies by
And in corners sings alone
Emotions and splendor mellows
In its race a fierce passion

Lines are from a blind Mustafa
Without lament darkness arrives
That neatness wants, goes and carries
When it reaches a sky of nan
In its race a new passion