Hour after hour, day after day,
between that heaven and earth are
eternal sentinels,
as a torrent that plunges
Life happens.

Give it back to the flower its perfume
after withering;
of waves kissing the beach
and expire one after another kissing
Gather up the rumors, complaints
and engraved bronze plates harmony.

Times were, tears and laughter,
black torment, sweet lies,
Alas, where is the trail left,
where, my soul?.