Silencio

Silence in the night.
All is quiet now.
The muscle sleeps.
Ambition rests.

Rocking a cradle,
a mother sings
a beloved song
that reaches the soul,
because in that cradle,
is her hope.

They were five siblings.
She was a saint.
They were five kisses
that every morning
brushed very tenderly
the silver strands
of that little old lady
with very white gray hair.
There were five children
who went to the workshop.

Silence in the night.
All is quiet now.
The muscle sleeps,
ambition works.

A bugle is heard.
The Fatherland is in danger.
And to the cry of war
men kill each other
covering with blood
the fields of France.

Today all is past.
The plants are reborn.
A hymn to life
the ploughs sing.
And the little old lady
with very white gray hair
was very lonely,
with five medals
that for five heroes
the Fatherland awarded her.

Silence in the night.
All is quiet.
The muscle sleeps,
ambition rests...

A distant chorus
of singing mothers
rock in their cradles,
new hopes.
Silence in the night.
Silence in the souls...