Roble

Leaves have already fallen
the winter cold is coming
it was autumn, the last warmth of April
and the tree sleeps and dies
without resisting, without dying
only dreaming of the rain brings it back to life.
No dry leaves left
the wind took them far from me
I see the oak tree just resting from the end
and the tree sleeps and dies
without resisting, without dying
endless oak, you know what it is to die
rest and sleep until
the blue forest of the sacred oaks
awaken from their dream.
And the tree sleeps and dies
without resisting, without dying
endless oak, you know what it is to die
rest and sleep until
the blue forest of the sacred oaks
awaken from their dream, and the sun rises.