In my sorrow winds revealed the mirror of life,
In my joyful mood I felt not the heat of the sun,
In my adversities I bended knees raising my hands,
In my victory I abandoned the Being that echoes in minds,

When would I stop schooling in that old school of nature,
The teachers of old had whipped my back tearing my clothes,
Where would I see my pencil lost for years,
When would I graduate from that old school, asked.

In my elementary class I lost the colour of my hairs,
Why my teachers...