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The band of youngsters playing in the street were staring up at the moon as though they had never seen it before, singing in cadenced monotone with silvery little voices: La lluna, la pruna Vestida de dol ... "Eh, will you brats shut up!" Tonet protested, claiming that he had a headache. "You come and make us!" came the answering challenge: Sa mare la crida; Son pare no vol ...
"Mujer heroica y valiente Que con divino valor Pisas gloriosa el furor De la enganosa serpiente Pues por no temer el diente De aqeste monstro infernal Sois Maria concebida Sin pecado original." "Virgen que de nuestro suelo Subes vestida de estrellas Mas bela que las mas bellas A ser la gloria del cielo Pues para tan alto vuelo Con un favor sin igual Sois Maria concebida Sin pecado original."
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