Flowers from fields they come to a burial.
That's why our mothers, they can't sleep enough.
They can't sleep enough.
Seagulls come to shore, to your boat.
She stayed on the edge right next to the dawn.
Colors and glimpse had gone to the catacombs.
That's why our mothers, holy mothers, they can't sleep enough.
Open your gates to the shore,
Open your gates,
Open your gates,
Open your gates to the shore.
Seagulls come to shore, to your boat.
She stayed on the edge right next to the dawn.
Open your gates to the shore,
Open your gates,
Open your gates,
Open your gates to the shore, brother,
Open your gates to the shore.