Durazno Sangrando

Early the peach fell from the tree.
Its skin was golden pink from the sun.
And upon seeing itself in the luck of all fruit trees.
On the edge of a river, its faith made it arrive.
They say that in this valley,
peaches belong to the elves.

It spent some time in the same place,
until one day it started to listen,
to a very sad melody from the south,
that cried like this from within: