El Aromo

There's an acacia tree born
In the crack of a stone
It seems like it broke it
To come out from inside it

It's on a high hill
There's not a single weed nearby
Looking at it alone and blooming
The whole mountain envies it

They look at it from a distance
Trees and vines
Saying with resentment
For just one, how much land

In gold it offers to the Sun
To pay for the light it lends
And since it has more
It sows handfuls on the ground

Health, money, and joy
All to the acacia, they offer
According to what others see
From the place they observe it

But one must go and see
How the stone squeezes it
See that it's a torment
The life they envy

In that crack, the tree
Was born under a bad star
And instead of dying sadly
It turns its sorrows into flowers

Since it has no shelter
All the winds hit it
The frosts punish it
The water passes and doesn't stay

That's how the acacia lives
Without anyone knowing
With its little bit of pride
Because it's fair that it has it

But with such a beautiful soul
That not a single complaint arises
That instead of dying sadly
It turns its sorrows into flowers

They should envy
The others, if they knew!