El Pi de Formentor

My heart loves a tree! Older than the olive tree,
more powerful than the oak, greener than the orange tree,
it preserves eternal spring in its leaves,
and fights with the winds that assault the shore,
like a warrior giant.
It doesn't gaze at the enamored flower in its leaves,
nor does the little fountain go to kiss its shadows;
but God anointed its sacred head with aroma,
and gave it as its land the rugged mountain range,
with the immense sea as its source.

When far away, upon the waves, divine light is reborn,
the bird that captivates us doesn't sing in its branches;
it listens to the sublime cry of the sea eagle,
or the vulture that rises feeling the giant wing
stirring its foliage.

Its life doesn't sustain from the mud of this land;
it clings to the rocks with its powerful roots;
it has rains and dews and winds and burning light;
and, like an old prophet, it receives life and nourishment
from the loves of the sky.

Sublime tree! He is the living image of genius:
he dominates the mountains and gazes at the infinite;
for him the earth is hard, but his foliage kisses
the sky that enchants him, and he has thunder and weather
for glory and delight.

Oh, yes, when the winds roar and rain falls,
and it seems among the foam that its cliff will fall,
then he laughs and sings louder than the waves,
and, victorious, he spurs on the clouds
with his royal mane.

Tree, my heart envies you. Upon the impure earth,
as a holy pledge, I will keep your memory.
To fight constantly and conquer, to reign over the heights,
and to feed and live on pure sky and light...
Oh life, oh noble fate!

Up, strong soul! Pierce through the mist
and root yourself in the heights like the tree of the cliffs.
You will see the angry sea of the world fall at your feet,
and your calm songs will go with the wind
like the bird of storms.