Life-giving air, father of existence,

I am an animator of the Divine Author,

From this our subtle motorcycle

Compound, where a God put his science!

You have, O air, the exalted pre-eminence

From being an exhalation of the Trinic breath,

Your susten, without falling, the home to pine:

Without you you are always ready for decadence.

You the burning fevers mitigate you

In this, of the world, laboriously read,

On these Earth (without ceasing) fatigues.

You are the mainstay of life,

However, when you leave the body,

You give her, with pain, eternal farewell.

Fransisco Bingre