There is a place where the flowers sing
-the trees sing
-the stones sing
but the olive tree does not sing
In the may we walk, by the well, then the spring
Drinking the water last April did bring
We walk down the path of the
Olive tree
and condemn ourselves to
-silence
There is a place where the flowers cry
-the trees cry
-the stones cry
but the olive tree does not cry
In the June we walk, by sun, then the sky
We walk down the path of the
Olive tree
and condemn ourselves to
-violence