At times I fear man is but born to die,
And verily we all shall pass away.
The bliss and strength of youth serve to belie
Our end, which hastens closer day by day.
What is our meaning? Which our destined road?
Can we against the tide of death conspire?
We can when loveliness unmatched is sowed
Within a heart, such beauty can inspire.
I now know whence such perfect beauty came,
And I shall praise her, for I know I must.
Her beauty will not die, she'll live in fame
While all the rest fade quietly to dust.
Come words! your task is to immortalize
Her smile, her grace, the light within her eyes.
Bolivar and San Martin: Guayaquil, Ecuador
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