Save me when I am young,
Understand the thesis of living,
As far as the cabin of highness.
Return to the kings of ancient greatness,
Kings are the captains of old nature,
Their royalty is diminishing.
Like them with fervour and heartiness,
I have crazy helpers and lepers,
All of the scripts say wonders
Of the high profits and worries
That submerge and emerge
Seize the moment with the heart
That hands out dangers,
Fists of trouble understand us
As we resort to politics and economics.
I start to collide with my rooms,
Dreams are alive like their parents,
The children inside are like phantoms,
But the ghosts are always going to haunt
Enter the arena with sword and might,
In the deeds there are some who have fountains
Of wisdom, as the real hatred of some
Seem to be for the undertakers of funerals.
See me when I am red in the face,
Politeness is the iron fist
Returning to me when times are thick
With incredulous rage.
I ask the same gift and I hear the reply,
Problems are mastered by the brain,
And solutions are acquired with the heart.
The heart is my intellect,
Love is my complement to hate,
The feelings enclosed subside,
But one loves less when in worry,
And more love is given when you