𝒀 𝒂𝒖𝒏𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒆𝒏𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒂
𝒚 𝒍𝒂 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒆 𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆 𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒚 𝒖𝒏 𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒐𝒕𝒂
𝒑𝒐𝒓 𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒓 𝒅𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒂 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒂
𝒕𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒂, 𝒏𝒐 𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒂.
𝒀𝒐 𝒍𝒐 𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒆𝒓𝒐 𝒆𝒔 𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒂𝒔,
𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒍𝒂 𝒑𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒊́𝒂,
𝒎𝒆 𝒎𝒖𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒂𝒔 𝒆𝒍 𝒄𝒖𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐
𝒚 𝒑𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒂𝒔 𝒅𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒃𝒆𝒛𝒂 𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒔 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒔;
𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒆𝒓𝒐 𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝒂𝒄𝒂𝒃𝒆𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒐
𝒚 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒆𝒏 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒂 𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒊́𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒔
𝒕𝒖 𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒐𝒃𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒊 𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒉𝒐
𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒂 𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒂
𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒊́𝒂 𝒆𝒙𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒂.
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