It’s already dawn, thus we can see fruitful greenness,
A carob tree is tearful with a broken branch,
Just the one that was easy to grab from the lane.
Black dry narrow carobs remain scattered on the ground.
A windy autumn day with white clouds in the reddish sky.
This Mediterranean tree surrounded by robust bushes,
Beautiful olive trees on a very fertile grove,
Some almond trees nearby, productive rain-fed land,
A mutation of thrush flying around and eating olive bones,
Some hares digging a burrow in the shadow under the trunk,
A woman farmer with a palm basket hastily picking carobs
On a working Monday morning with fecund crops.
An old man with a cart mule passing by and greeting,
Sweet remembrance of happy old rural times.
Just the most intimate chat after lunch at the local pub,
Having the sweetest icy white coffee in the country,
With the best of friends who’s always nearby.
That’s what I call heartfelt life at a little place by the river.
Happy years growing up together, lots of games being played,
Passion for soccer and discovery of own body and girls.
Relatives in next open door, friends being mindfully chosen.
Long talks about love and dislikes, expenses and work,
In the friendliest atmosphere by a glass of beer.
— Laughs in lips, smiles in countenance —,
A helpful barman who knows by heart your likings
All the time guesses whether you are having a proper mood.
Indelible people who are there for good.
Sweet remembrances of lovely good will and affinity.
The taste of sea breeze scattering a thousand natural flavours,
This is the sea, immense one of eternal dreams.
Everlasting ideals to be fulfilled, all of a sudden.
Feeling glad remembering those placid instants of adolescence
When the body becomes combustive effervescence
And makes flags fly, risen to all winds.
With the ball at the feet, I saw myself growing
As a sportsman faithful to my roots all the time,
— With hard work, joy, ambition, fame, solidarity —.
I never locked infantry in distant remembrance,
Gentile as it was in an industrial changing place
— Like Vallès24 there is nothing — the mythical poet25 message,
Born in my town home and sharing my love for cultural heritage
in my hectic journey as a committed man
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