We remained the martyrs of a wretched life!This is how the generations set outAnd will they never end?...Amidst the light, we saw no lightWe did not let our bold desire rebel!We wept over the misery,A perverse virtue of humanity.
From it judges are born perhaps,...Perhaps, of the human expanse.In their majesty they are always drunkWe wait, they wait.... “the triumphant one!”
We knew no clash, no peaceful revolt;We remained wounds with a human face The rich in spirit,... not initiators.
