La Porta Del Cel

The Pla de Corona wakes up covered by the mist
The houses dot the almond and carob fields
The coves with steep rocks and fish at the bottom
The engine of a boat that lingers returning to the port

The door of heaven, where the stars are born
And brave dreams forged by a thousand storms

The light of summers that seemed to stretch forever
The shy candle dancing with the evening breeze

The smell of pine wood and the salt on the skin
The sea foam tangling in your hair