When I was born, without the sun, my mother said:
Flower of my heart, generous Homagno
Me and the world's great copy,
Fish and poultry in horse and man becomes
Look at these two, which gives you pain,
Insignias of life go and choose.
This is a yoke whoever accepts it, enjoy:
Makes gentle ox, and provides
Service to the gentlemen, sleeping on straw
Warm, rich, wide and oats.
This, oh mystery to me born
What was the summit of the mountain
This, that shines and kills, is a star:
Since water light, sinners
Who are fleeing the leads, and in life,
What a monster of crime charged,
Anyone who carries light stays alone.
But the man who imitates ox without penalty,
Ox again be shut down and raw
The universal begins again.
Without the fear that the star is limited,
As you create, grow!
When the world
From his glass and emptied the liquor live:
When, for delicacy of the bloody
Fiesta human happy and got serious
His own heart, when the winds
North and South Virti voice sacred?
The star as a blanket, wrapped it in light,
Lights, as a party, clear the air,
And the living was not afraid to live,
It's rumored that a step further rises in the shade!
The yoke Dame, oh my mother, so
That put him in the foot, look at my forehead
Best star that illuminates and kills.
http://kirjasto.sci.fi/josemart.htm