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𝘕𝘢𝘥𝘢 𝘦𝘴 𝘮í𝘰,

𝘯𝘪 𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘳 𝘲𝘶𝘦

𝘴𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢

𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘦,

𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘰

𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘦ñ𝘰𝘴

𝘲𝘶𝘦 𝘢𝘭 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘳

𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘯,

𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘰 𝘣𝘪𝘦𝘯

𝘭𝘰𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘻𝘰 𝘺

𝘷𝘪𝘣𝘳𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯

𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘴,

𝘧𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢

𝘴𝘪𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘳á

𝘴𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘳

𝘭𝘰𝘴 𝘢ñ𝘰𝘴,

𝘳𝘰𝘫𝘰𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘰𝘴,

𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘢,

𝘺 𝘰𝘫𝘰𝘴 𝘥𝘦

𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘰,

𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘢

𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘰𝘴

𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘰 𝘱𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘮𝘢

𝘦𝘯 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘰 𝘷𝘶𝘦𝘭𝘰,

𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘴𝘰,

𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘰

𝘯𝘢𝘥𝘢 𝘦𝘴 𝘮í𝘰,

𝘴𝘰ñ𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘥𝘰.

𝘝í𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘉𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘴 𝘚𝘰𝘭𝘢

𝘌𝘯𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢

𝘊𝘈𝘙𝘙𝘐𝘓𝘖𝘉𝘖 - 𝘊Ó𝘙𝘋𝘖𝘉𝘈 - 𝘈𝘙𝘎𝘌𝘕𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘈