My heart's filled with joy
every time I see the nails on my toes
as white as new shells from the shore
as pure as ash from a stove

Though neat and well shaped
from my toes and well fed
with yam from the best fields,
my heart's still depressed

When I look where they are going
the stones they may be knocking
the sandals they may be taking
or even the paths they may be paving,

My eyes get teary
for the future I already know
I cry because I know one day,
the once young and pure white nails I had,
will have to crumble and break
from colour of ash to that of blood
and once the smile I had, will be taken away
Victor Manuel