That boy, with his eyes as tender as the stars, his skin pale like his mother's, his tranquility pure as the wind, that when he hears his voice, it is dedicated to his mother, whom he usually calls "the moon" "It's as if he were his son, made in his image and like that peeks out the window every night, to sing and admire his beloved mother, think that what I say is crazy, or that I only invent an excuse but I I could check... "That he is Son of the Moon"