My sweet night, with your
bright, shining stars
that whiten my dreams—
there, where you hold little souls,
the souls of little angels,
angels whom God keeps close beside Him.
In a pure place, filled with peace,
where little souls find serenity.
The soul of the mother who was torn apart
in the final embrace,
in the “goodbye” instead of the “hello.”
In the old habits that have faded away,
and in their little clothes
that now remain empty.
Now they watch us from above,
guarding our lives with love.
And when the sun fades in the west,
their light fills our hearts.
For the souls of angels,
pure and small,
are the rays that illuminate
our darkest moments.
Those difficult nights
when hope seems lost—
there we find it again,
hidden deep among the stars.
