I remember that convent of women once upon a time, I think it
was in Rio de Janeiro,
And those fervent voices chanting and reciting the credo almost
quite low.
And that made me think of the desert, of the night of Bethle-
hem, in its enormous black veil,
With that cassocked group of shepherds who ask each other and
tell each other many a tale;
One questions, the other answers, the young one lets the elder
speak, he does not tire.
There is sometimes a moment of silence, it’s time to put wood
in the fire.
Thus the degree of our salvation and that road leading to heaven’s
throne
Are told us humbly in a confidential tone.