It only knows the future that has it
Who knows day of tomorrow.
That problem and unhealthy doubt:
The luck does not inform anybody.
The doubt mourning destroys,
And that drama of love to weave
Is possible that comes to be
The wheel that the destination grinds.
The destiny that concerns me,
Does not matter that luck if read,
Is to see that the profit is mine.
I do not wait for the hour of the end:
Either there the destination what it says,
What matters is to be happy.
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