Mi pueblo chico

How lucky it is that my town is small
People don't even know it exists
It hides climbing the hills,
lost and lonely in the distance
the white fences, honeysuckle
the straw and adobe huts,
the green of the tall poplar
and the willow that kisses the earth.
so few know the song
of the clear water of the stream
that flows down the winding paths
bringing freshness from above
that flows down the winding paths
bringing freshness from above
May the footsteps of outsiders
never find your trails,
the scent of pennyroyal is ours,
thyme, orange blossom, and mint.

chorus