Art, Cuba, Sun

Cousin, I know where you are from, our people share a motherland, that daughter of the sun, the favorite, I am sure, the one who listens to each and learns, I the belly, hes ng | h mountains, waves lived where sweet Sines mh 4 ripe and the children play the stars at night, the breezes bless, the country grows to wrap her arms around the neck of that star, the same on her flag, her parent beloved, our mother, our love, Cuba, Cuba, my living poem!