Glory, happiness, love, fortune,

here is what many aspire ... A tombstone

it happens to come before the laurels. Vile thief,

the death, sometimes, steals the son, the wife.

Strong wall there is always, inopportune,

to our aspiration, and anything

comes to us to make the life bitter, dark...

and instead of the laughter the pain in us rests.

Fugatious happiness only exists.

Who is today happy, certainly, still will

have black days of growing grieving.

You, yes, you were happy! The crossing

of the existence you did it in only one day,