I have always known this olive tree
Small, robust and so beautiful
But someday, it will bend
Its green leaves will lay on the ground
And then, little by little, they will disappear underground
It may be better off this way,
And who knows? It will surely have grown somewhere else...
As long as I am alive,
I will water with water (and with tears)
The memory of that tree which, unknowingly,
Is the tree I admired the most
In the new spring,
There won't be any leaves left
Neither this one, nor any other
I wish it were everlasting, that olive tree!