We have gone through many storms
And how many ancient and harsh trials
And a clear help from an invisible caress
From a guardian
Worthy is the life of the one who is He is awake
But even more so than he who becomes wise
And then rejoins His joy
Praise be, Praise to the Inviolate
And how many useless characters have I worn
I and my person how many have suffered
Arid is the sterile hell its path
How many miracles, designs and inspirations
And then the suffering that makes you blind
In the falls there is the reason for His Absence
The clouds cannot annihilate the Sun
And Paganini knew it well
That the devil is He is left-handed and sneaky
And plays the violin

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