Rosalia De Castro says that in the poem the people say that the plants can not speak with stream not with Birds not with roaring waves not with brilliance of stars.
They people say I cannot sure because when I go by them (the plants) they always talk with each other about me that - ‘oh! that made women goes. She is dreaming about the spring tide and eternal fields and life. Yet very soon her hair will be turn in grey color. Very Soon See will be found trembling and frozen and the frost cover her upon the grass’
Now there are grey hair on my head. There is frost on the loan but I drew on dreaming of poor and incurable sleep. And in dream of permanent freshness of the field and soul. Some dreams are scorching me some were scorched by himself
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