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𝘌𝘭 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘳

𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘦𝘭𝘦,

𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘰 𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘦𝘭𝘦

𝘶𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢 𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘢,

𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘯

𝘭𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘴,

𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘦 𝘭𝘢

𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘳 /

𝘦𝘭 𝘧𝘶𝘦𝘨𝘰

𝘥𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘤𝘢

𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘲𝘶𝘦

𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘰𝘤𝘢,

𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘴

𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘭

𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘻ó𝘯,

𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘰 é𝘴𝘵𝘦 /

𝘯𝘰 𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘰,

𝘦𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘢 𝘭á𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢

𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘲𝘶𝘦

𝘷𝘪𝘣𝘳𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘳 /

𝘦𝘭 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘮𝘦

𝘥𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘢 𝘮𝘶𝘫𝘦𝘳,

𝘺 𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘢 𝘴𝘶𝘴

𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘥𝘰𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘴 /

𝘭𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘦𝘥𝘢𝘥

𝘥𝘦 𝘶𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘰,

𝘮á𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘣𝘳𝘦

𝘥𝘦 é𝘭 /

𝘤𝘶𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰

𝘩𝘶𝘦𝘭𝘦 𝘦𝘭

𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘥é𝘯

𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘳𝘰 /

𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘻ó𝘯 𝘲𝘶𝘦

𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘫𝘦𝘯ó

𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘰𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘴

𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘴.

𝘝í𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘉𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘴 𝘚𝘰𝘭𝘢

𝘌𝘯𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢

𝘊𝘈𝘙𝘙𝘐𝘓𝘖𝘉𝘖 – 𝘊Ó𝘙𝘋𝘖𝘉𝘈 – 𝘈𝘙𝘎𝘌𝘕𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘈