mama sang  to me ,
this old ballad,
sonnets so intruding,

the bad seed we sow!
the bad seeds we reap!

your garden is your amor
kinder your base ,
dig little treasures,

In spring water, courage,
Sow in the patience,
Your progress is victory

In summer, pluck your dignity,
Rinse it with morals,
Plunder your beauty ,

The roots within are  grit ,
The steam is your spurt,
Mold your prudence
Mama sang !