Open the box, Pandora,
and let the evils hidden in your beauty
in your beauty hidden
with your grace and your gracefulness.
You were born of soft clay
for sensual art;
perhaps you spun misfortunes
on your magic loom.
Seductress and liar,
disguised among the flowers,
you swindled into joy
the fragile peace of men.
Guilty of these acts
that man infuses and provokes.
Of deceit, beauty;
the lying goodness.
Pandora of black tulle
with silver and gold brocade.
Pandora, the evil curious one;
the one who brought all the mud.
Will it be possible to close
your beautiful cursed box?
Man is still in the mud
entrenched in his malice.
Close the box, Pandora,
and let the water run clear;
we would be happier
with that box closed.
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