My wife snores, her nose up in the sky,
and the clouds' veil is at once torn,
the moon comes down to kiss her skin,
and she looks me a very great beauty:
love is really a powerful sorcerer,
if he can upset the reason like this.
snores the little dog in a lower key,
i caress him with so much love,
he reciprocates with his little tongue;
snores the hitch at the foot of the bed,
she runs in her dreams, with full delight,
after bad dogs and evil cats,
bringing then home joyful trumphs.
i then understand that I am very rich,
rich of a wealth the in a bank is not welcome,
and I just think that, up in the heavens,
a very good God really exists,
and I return to being the guardian
of their dreams, never so glad of what I own.