She may be the face I can’t forget
The trace of pleasure or regret
Maybe my treasure or the price I have to pay
She may be the song that summer sings
May be the chill that autumn brings
May be a hundred different things
Within the measure of a day
She may be the beauty or the beast
May be the famine or the feast
May turn each day into a Heaven or a Hell
She may be the mirror of my dreams
A smile reflected in a stream
She may not be what she may seem
Inside her shell….
She, who always seems so happy in a crowd
Whose eyes can be so private and so proud
No one’s allowed to see them when they cry
She maybe the love that cannot hope to last
May come to me from shadows in the past
That I remember ’till the day I die
She maybe the reason I survive
The why and wherefore I’m alive
The one I care for through the rough and ready years
Me, I’ll take the laughter and her tears
And make them all my souvenirs
For where she goes I’ve got to be
The meaning of my life is
She….She
Oh, she….
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va por todas las mujeres que buscamos prosperar,
crecer, amar y ser amadas,
por nuestros reconocimiento,
por nuestra diáfana suavidad…
por nuestra simple existencia -permítanme- brindar!
Si. Brindemos por las mujeres que hacen del proceso de la vida una experiencia de magnánima solicitud y que todas vosotras sigáis siendo creadoras de un mundo donde la existencia sea diáfana. Amadas y amantes, crecidas y crecientes, reconocidas por todos como causas inefables de progreso.