𝚂𝙴́ 𝚀𝚄𝙴 𝙽𝙾 𝙴𝚂 𝙿𝙴𝚁𝙵𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙾
𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚊 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚘𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚜 𝚢 𝚞𝚜𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚌𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚓𝚘𝚜, 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚎𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚓𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚏𝚎́ 𝚙𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗̃𝚊𝚗𝚊.
𝚢 𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚘𝚜 𝚖𝚊́𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚜 𝚌𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚎𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚒́𝚘 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊́ 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚖𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚑𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚜.
𝚂𝚎́ 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘,
𝚙𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚜 𝚟𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚜,
𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚖𝚊́𝚜 𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚎𝚍𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛.
𝚂𝚎́ 𝚑𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚘 𝚊 𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚘
𝚑𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚊 𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚍𝚒́𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎 𝚢𝚘 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚘, 𝚢 𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚜 𝚍𝚎́𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚒 𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚍𝚊 𝚌𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚋𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚢 𝚙𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚎𝚛.
𝚂𝚎́ 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘,
𝚊 𝚟𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚊 𝚜𝚊𝚕 𝚢 𝚎𝚕 𝚊𝚣𝚞́𝚌𝚊𝚛, 𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚓𝚊𝚍𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚙𝚊 𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚌𝚎 𝚢 𝚝𝚎́ 𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚘,𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚊 𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚒 𝚢𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚘.
𝚂𝚊𝚋𝚎 𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚛,
𝚜𝚊𝚋𝚎 𝚍𝚎 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛,
𝚜𝚊𝚋𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚛,
𝚜𝚊𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚞́𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚊
𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚘𝚓𝚘𝚜.
𝙴́𝚕 𝚗𝚘 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚊 𝚊 𝚗𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚎,
𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚘 𝚙𝚞𝚎𝚍𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚛 𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚕 𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚊 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚜,𝚋𝚊𝚓𝚊𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚊 𝚕𝚞𝚗𝚊,
𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚘 𝚎𝚕 𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚊 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚜𝚒 𝚊𝚜𝚒́ 𝚕𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚎.
𝚂𝚎́ 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘,
𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚊 𝚊𝚕𝚐𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚜
𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚎𝚗 𝚟𝚎𝚣 𝚍𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚛,
𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊, 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚘́ 𝚊 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚎𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚜, 𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚋𝚊 𝚕𝚊 𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚊,𝚑𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚢 𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚎 𝚕𝚊 𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚞𝚛𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚘 𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚒́𝚊 𝚊𝚍𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚘 𝚊 𝚖𝚒 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚕.
𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚘,
𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚊 𝚕𝚊 𝚟𝚎𝚣 𝚝𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚕 𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚘,
𝚜𝚒 𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚜,
𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚒́𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊́ 𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚜, 𝚞𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚘́𝚗 𝚍𝚎 𝚔𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚝𝚘́𝚗
𝚢 𝚎𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎.
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