The beauty of the girl
Doesn't enamour me

Nor her pink and purple skirt
I get into the room

Of her conduct and character
And see if its walls are properly painted

I don't want to know
What language or accent she indulges in

What worthy words she utters
Grab my heart and mind

Marriage doesn't hinge on
The hue of her golden braids

Nor it's a bed of roses
By virtue of her charming gate

It's the confluence of two rivers
Flowing into each other happily