Yes, the Woman is fragile, She is the breath of the wind,
And the silver of the moon becomes in his hands,
Caresses at night a mute shade of light
And the rainbow colored plays in the clouds.
Yes, the Woman is fragile, but stronger than the hands of her Beloved,
Capable of holding in minutes of evil anxiety ...
There is not at this moment stronger in the world Half,
Impenetrable for the woman is expensive.
Yes, the Woman is gentle, bestowing affection,
And its fragility is compared with a petal.
A dull world she replaces with a wonderful fairy tale,
And, blossoming, in a moment becomes a flower.
Yes, the Woman is gentle, but in the maternal happiness
More reliable than warm hands in the world can not be found.
Over the baby will be dispersed by the cloud of bad weather
And hard to resist will help along the way.
Yes, the Woman is strong ... Strong as a diamond face,
And in the storms and winds will block you ...
But still fragile, like a small vase,
With a heart in your hands stores a light.