The hands of my love
Are embroidering a cape for you
With a macramé made of hoary stock
And with mozzettas made of water
Sweetheart, when you rode
Through the white Spring
The hooves of your horse
Resounded like four silver wails
The moon is like a small well and
Flowers are worth nothing
It's your arms that have value
When you embrace me at night
I have blue eyes
And my little heart is the same colour
As the top of the fire
At night I go outside
And cry until I'm weary
I can see that I love you so much
And you don't love me at all
The moon is like a small well and
Flowers are worth nothing
It's your arms that have value
When you embrace me at night
There are twenty four hours in a day
It has twenty four hours
If it had twenty seven
I would love you for three more hours
This gypsy is crazy
So crazy that he should be locked up
Because he wishes
For the things he dreams at night to come true
The moon is like a small well and
Flowers are worth nothing
It's your arms that have value
When you embrace me at night