You smiled, you spoke, and I believed, By every word and smile deceived. Another man would hope no more; Nor hope I what I hoped before: But let not this last wish be vain; Deceive, deceive me once again!

Is this a holy thing to see, In a rich and fruitful land, Babes reduced to misery, Fed with the cold and usurous hand? Is that trembling cry a song? Can it be a song of joy? And so many children are poor? It is a land of poverty!

An untold feeling when I hold you, first time in my arms.. Made you walk with little steps By holding in my hands, your little-little palms.. Made you sleep overnight By keeping myself alive.. And now you titillate me When I am crying.. Feed with my hands When you feel hunger.. You make me smile When I got anger.. When I scold you You wrapped around me.. As every treasure of yours Hide inside me..