He is a child, beautiful boy,

gods' son and father of the joy;

cause calmness, makes madness

to the lovers, to the good husband.

Always child, always small.

Beautiful boy! How he is chubby!

What rosy body! What serene glance!

He has angel's wings: What good little angel!

He has pretty face, brilliant eyes

always covered by a blindfold,

blindly he walks, by the reefs,

and doesn't have homeland and nor housing.

Very smiling, he leads in the quiver,

that brings suspended, burning arrows.

He is commandant of slave people:

of sweet girls and valiant men.

How is frolic that child!

Summer and winter always naked,

he leads to the young men sweet hope,

but brings to the elder atrocious moans.

He is that sketches, that paints the laughter

and makes the charm of whom one adore.

He made the sin in the paradise

and still makes delicacies, now.

Always small, of the same age

and always loved, smiling and beautiful,

he has in his breast for the humani

caress and laughter, pleasure and aspiration.

He is polyglot. Any language

he speaks in the good lovers' eyes.

He dominates the kings, the braves he tames,

governs the wise persons and the pretentious ones...

Beautiful child! Daring boy!

With his thin arrows of loves,

he brings the complaint with the tender pleasure

and gives to the world laughters and pains.