By a grief you always have the hurt soul,

you say, however, oh no — everything varies,

because, jovial, in your lips, concealed,

I perceived many times the joy.

Abundant antitheses, has our life:

if we have laughters and energy today,

tomorrow there is our aching soul

by the atrocious sadness — torturing harpy.

Laughters and vigors everything evaporates,

everything, everything is intermittent to us.

In the very nature you see, now,

a beautiful and good, plentyful, ardent sun,

gilding the flowers; soon, it discolors,