In the baskets of noon,
Within Midnights starry embrace,
She wears the moonlight,

Up and down,
The Suncaressed shore,
She wears the moonlight,
In her hair,

From january to december,
Year round,
She wears the moonlight,

As she plays,
The shimmers of her tambourine,
The sweet jazz of her harmonica,
And warm melodies,
Of her violin,
She wears the moonlight,
In her hair,

In her gypsy and magical gowns,
She wears the moonlight,

In all her luminous hues,
Through all her blues,
She wears the moonlight
Reynaldo Casison