My mother, my mother, I saw God in the circumambulation of your perfume, my mother, my mother, with you, I reached the glory of beauty, the sky is rooted in the depths of your eyes, laugh until it rains on the earth, where am I afraid of the dead end, so that your footprints are the border of heaven, the touch of your hand is the touch of the sea, with you, from every mirage, to the throat in the axe, in my autumn before you, I am a spring suddenly, my mother, my mother, the prostration of the angels. Your skirt is my mother, my mother, the secret of creation in your clear gaze, my mother, my mother, the prostration of the angels to your skirt, my mother, the secret of creation, in your bright gaze, the flames on the gathering are nothing but life, the tradition of the butterfly, there is nothing but butterfly, your love is beyond this world, the point of the fusion of the earth and the sky, the touch of your hand is the touch of the sea, with you from every mirage, I am with you from every mirage, to the throat in the axe, in my autumn before you, I am a spring suddenly.
