In this night of oppression, in this night of fear and ashes that have been saddened , comrade of the bright days of my liberation, call the stars, my heart is filled with the
stature of the companions of the informants, if the forest is broken, the flowing forest is waking up, the flower is in bloom, my spring is awakening, the budding star is not flickering, although I am a comrade of the nights of no one, O head to skirt in this sterile silence, barricade to barricade of lamp. The sun in your eyes is bright, the stature of the companions of the axes If the broken forest is rising, the flowing forest is waking up, the spring is waking up, the bud is closed, the
stature of the companions of the axes is broken, the flowing forest is waking up, the spring is rising, the bud is tied.
