For the struggle which opens
the beginning of bad days
My mother gave me a small portrait of her
A pledge to which I have remained faithful since
And around my neck hangs that velvet cord.
"On the altar of your heart (since death calls me)
Child, I will watch, she always told me
May this chase the fatal loves far away
Like a lamp of gold, guardian of a chapel."
Ah! I am tranquil in the darkness of the coffin!
The sacred talisman of my youth in bereavement
Save your son from the arms of Lust.
So much would I be afraid to see one day on your portrait
tears flowing from your sweet eyes from a wound Mother!
For whom I would die of eternal regret.