I used to be a dear virgin handkerchief
Dedicated to the angel's wings;
White, clean, beautiful, bright,
Everything in heaven, envied me.
And I'm used to it everywhere,
Bathalang's forehead swelling is expensive;
If it's night or day, it's daylight,
Beauty makeup at dawn.
If I had the gold in the morning,
Riding the Sun in the beam;
And if everything is quiet at night,
For the Moon, silver shades.
I used to be white, nice looking,
To God be the leader forever;
To the Virgin is an ointment,
And in the notes they grow.
Because of that much of my work,
I was dirty, sad, dark,
And my body I want to wet,
When it does, rain will come.
And now that everything is in your mind,
Without remembering all my hardship,
It is God who says, "My sword."
When it was dirty I called it a cloud.