1. I hope for fruits that I do not harvest
And I await a situation that has loosened its knots

2. I entrust to God a void in you that I fill
With affection, and He expands me with fabrications and pretense

3. It's as if my secret within His bowels is a flame
So it cannot bear any patches for its peripheries

4. Your chest had been a trunk for secrets
Stingy with what its edges conceal

5. So it became, from the diffusion of what you entrusted, a gem
Delicate, that the eye examines what is in it