No hay nada ya que mis carnes taladre. Con el amor acabose el hervir. Aun me apacienta el mirar de mi madre. Let us exchange for a smiling verse that verse scored with blood and gall.
Heavenly violets open, and through the valley the wind blows a honeyed breath.
Our eyes grow heavy with weeping, yet a brook can make us smile. A skylark's song bursting heavenward makes us forget it is hard to die. There is nothing now that can pierce my flesh. With love, all turmoil ceased. The gaze of my mother still brings me peace.