Even the most beautiful girls
cannot keep our sons at home
     We only know half
     of their dreams, not the other
     half that will not come true

Oh, girls (poor girls)
will they take over there
     Without obligations
     and without resistance
     Struggling bleeds dead

They spit on their worker's hands
look forward to striking fists
     Peace is not their world
     They are no longer children
     and they laugh at our worries

On our breasts we fed them
with peace
     They have grown from it
     developing in homeliness
     but now they want something else