Cuatro tablas

Years come, time passes
And with time comes the end
We all are born, we all die
And here it stays, the earthly

What pride, what money
If the luggage of the one who leaves
Is a rosary and four boards
That in a tomb, will rot

What flowers on a slab
What tears of sorrow
What prayers if those things
Do not resurrect the one who leaves

What mourning, what novenas
For what visits to the cemetery
If the one who sleeps under the earth
Does not resurrect with compassion

Why don't they appreciate the one who lives
Why don't they pray for the one who is
Why don't they cry for one in life
Not when they go in a box

Why do they keep the feelings
To express them when one is already
Carried on shoulders in four boards
Where they will never return