The Olive Grove of Beira Baixa
On every slope, in every landscape,
Beautiful olive trees stretch to the horizon,
Giving Beira Baixa a special magic,
A gray-green cloak, an imposing sight.
The wind carries the cold on its wings,
And olives are born, black jewels,
Adorning every tree with its shine,
Inspiring new verses and eternal rhymes.
Centenary olive trees, some ancient,
They keep secrets from times past,
Silent witnesses of stories and traditions,
With calloused hands and wrinkled faces.
The “gold” of Beira Baixa, soft and sweet,
From Galician, the predominant variant,
An unmistakable flavor that lasts,
In the memories of a resilient people.
Between green and gray, the leaves resist,
Symbol of strength, desire to be reborn,
With each challenge, with each new season,
The Beira Baixa olive grove continues to flourish.
