Okay, put the Spanish for “moon”, Luna, being related to Lunatic, in the category of, “It’s so obvious you never realized it until someone once pointed it out to you!”.
Nighttime has historically, since ancient times, been associated with danger and the crazy riskiness that comes alongside it. This is manifested in many forms, including the Luna/Lunatic parallel.
Think, also, about parallel English cliches like, “shooting for the moon”: someone who is trying something that is so risky and unlikely to succeed that you must be insane to even try it!
The Spanish hambre, for “hunger”, makes sense if you know two different patterns.
Firstly, the initial f-to-h pattern: words that began with an f- then a vowel in Latin tended to have the f- turned into an h- when Spanish evolved into Latin. Huir and Fugitive is another example of that pattern.
Secondly, the mn-to-mbr pattern: when the letters in Latin “m” and “n” appear together, often separated by a vowel, they usually became “mbr” as a unit in Spanish.
Thus the f-m-n of famine maps directly to the h-m-b-r of hambre.
Esposa and spouse both come from the same root, and both mean the same thing — that one was obvious!
However, it gets more interesting: both come from the Latin spondere, meaning, “to bind”.
From this root we also get the Spanish word esposas, which means (in addition to meaning just “wives”), also means… handcuffs.
Yes, in Spanish, “handcuff” and “wife” are the same word. It gets the point across clearly, doesn’t it?
Pollo (Spanish for “chicken”) is a close cousin of the English poultry.
Both come from the Latin pullus meaning “a young animal”.
The p-l mapping in both is obvious. And this mapping falls into the category of “completely and utterly obvious once you’ve heard it… but you never thought of it or realized it until someone told you”.
The Spanish vínculo (“a link, connection, something that binds something to something else”) comes from the Latin for the same, vinculum.
A distantly related word is the English wind — not in the sense of what blows in your face on a windy day but rather in the sense of winding a clock (remember those ancient clocks?). Wind (again, in this sense) comes from the Proto-Indo-European *wendh- (“to turn, weave, or wind”) from which we also get the Latin vinculum and finally the Spanish vínculo.
We can we can see that the v-n of vínculo maps to the w-n of wind.