A smile full hot sun,
And young and clear chest,
Stacks of gold expected,
At night the stars retired.

Hungry souls in torment,
High demand of divine
We gathered silence and bad.
Grown-n my eyes dear.

And I answer to them is to blame?
Of what they take light
From gentle eyes with tears,
Keeping silence of other traditions.

Echo strikes and
Helpless by a vain,
And I do not understand,
Why say yes, and why deny