Mi Pueblo Chico

How lucky it is that my town is small
People don't even know it exists
It hides climbing up the mountain
Lost and lonely way out there

The fences, white honeysuckles
The straw and adobe huts
The green of the tall poplar
And the willow that kisses the ground

Chorus

So few know the song
Of the clear water from the stream
That runs in the deep ravines
Bringing the freshness from above

Very soon the wide roads
Close and fall silent
On a makeshift shelter a stone
Or crawling the shadow of a talah

May they never find their paths
The steps of people from outside
It's ours the smell of pennyroyal
Thyme, orange blossom, and mint