Me and the half-June candle tonight is enough when it rained, the night was boring, O God, the mirror of my soul came to stone from the sadness of loneliness, in these nights when I burn, I see what I burn, I see what I burn, I see in the last candle, the flame until dawn, how dear you burn, your soul is on fire, your soul burns in mourning for the butterfly, come, come, the half-dead candle, familiar with the secret of my night, you tell him the story. You
