A BETTER LIFE

When she arrived she was crying.
She knew they were going to pass by after the Church.
She left it in a basket at my feet and went to hide not far away.
Those who found it were richly dressed; the woman held it at her breast, the man immediately gave her his jacket to keep it warm. They looked around, nobody was to be seen.
They happily took it with them. It was theirs now.
She sadly smiled.
She just offered her baby a better life.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

HOMELESS

Long hair and not shaved. He sat here to rest.
I thought he was homeless.
Then he started playing his guitar singing ballads.
He wasn't homeless. His home was everywhere.
He was a storyteller.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

SOLDIERS

They were young, they were strong. They builded up their camp just in front of me.
They were laughing loud in the beginning, then they became more silent and started writing long letters to their beloved ones. I am not sure they thought they could go back home one day.
They were fighting for some reason they probably didn´t know. Their smile was gone.
They looked like the leaves of a tree in autumn.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

NIGHT AND DAY

He arrived here dragging heavy chains. He was supposed to work in the fields.
It was the first time I saw a painted man.
He was big and strong but the little white girl bringing him the water was not afraid.
Their love broke the chains; they ran away together.
It´s a long time now but I still can see them, hand in hand, walking together like night and day.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

THE WOUND

It was hurting with its thick rope. It made a deep wound in my bark.
But I was sorry when they took it away.
I still miss the laugh of joy of the children on the swing.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

THE BLANKET

They stopped the car, they walked towards me and lay an old blanket on the ground.
When they embraced enjoying the shadow of my leaves I recognized them.
They used to meet here, forty years ago.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

A MIGRATORY BIRD

It filled the air with beauty and magic; that music seemed to come directly from heaven.
I was wondering which bird had such an incredible voice but I could not think of any. It must have been a migratory one coming from far away.
When that old gipsy neared I finally understood.
He was telling his story playing a violin.
I would have cried, being a man.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

THE LAST SUN RAYS

When she got out of his blue sport car she was smiling.
He was speaking at the telephone, he seemed very busy. She waited for him enjoying the last sun rays caressing her skin.
When he reached her he didn´t embrace her. He was not in love anymore and he finally said it.
Going back to his car he didn´t turn; he left her there, alone, he didn´t see the tears fulfilling her eyes.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

BAREFOOT

She was barefoot. Her clothes were poor and worn out.
Her face and hands were dirty and when she passed near by, she stopped to collect some olives. She walked away eating my fruits.
She was the poorest child I have ever seen, but she was smiling: a big loyal dog walked at her side.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

SUGAR

I was cold that night.
The noises around me were different and the steps of the horses passing by seemed like if they were walking on fields of cotton.
When the sun rose I thought I was covered with sugar.
In my long life I saw it few times but I always enjoyed the children throwing each other white snow balls.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

PURE POWER

Shiny, strong and nervous.
When I saw it the first time I thought it was pure power. I admit it scared me.
Then it came again together with a little girl.
She was caressing it speaking softly: it looked like enchanted by her.
She needed nothing else but her little voice to tame the powerful black horse.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

PURE POWER

Shiny, strong and nervous.
When I saw it the first time I tought it was it was pure power. I admit it scared me.
Then it came again together with a little girl.

THE EGG

It seemed difficut to break it. It took quite some time but wearingly they succeeded.
They were still wet and their beaks were already asking for care.
From this very day, everytime I see the miracle of life repeating itself, I can´t but move.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

THE FALLING STARS

Like falling stars I could see on the village the bright tail of the bombs.
The piercing sound of the alarm lasted all night long.
The next morning a long row of grieving evaquees paraded in front of me.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

HIS ENEMY

Silent and motionless, hidden behind my trunk he was waiting.
He knew they were going to come.
When they arrived she was laughing loud but as soon as she saw him she froze.
The sound of a shot and then a woman cry.
His enemy was dead.
He walked towards her and shoted again.
He died looking at her.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

THE ROSEBUD

The night before it wasn´t there. Then, in the morning, a scented red rosebud appeared on a bush not far.
They arrived that was nearly sunset; he picked the rosebud and gifted it to her. She pinned it on the deep neckline of her summer dress.
I could not think of a more beautiful place to die on.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

THE NUT TREE

I was still very young when I saw them the first time.
Not far from me there was a huge nut tree and they collected around him.
It was a warm night of June; they danced naked under the moonlight at the furious rhythm of drums played by big black men. Then they made love.
The nut tree explained me that it was a feast for the renewing of life.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

KINGS

Their clothes were poor, they were dirty and not all of them owned a pair of shoes.
They were very young, still children I would say, already used to the hard work in the fields.
But that day they were laughing and running, they looked like kings: they had a rag ball.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

THE WIZARD

It looked like he was stealing the red of the poppies, the golden yellow of the ripe wheat, the dark green of my leaves... I don´t know how he could do it, maybe he was a wizard, he had to be.
The only thing I know is that when he finished, the canvass had a soul.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

THE REST

Every afternoon he was coming there to rest after the hard work in the fields.
He sat under my leaves, crossed his arms and enjoyed the last sun rays with a smile of bliss.
The deep lines on his faced showed the hard life he had. I think he was quite old.
One time he sat longer.
The night came but he still was there with his smile on his face.
He looked asleep. He was dead.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

RED FLOWERS

She was collecting red flowers when the soldiers arrived.
She was alone.
They teared her clothes out and used her for their pleasure.
Laughing, they went away.
I would have been ashamed being a man.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

THE HARVEST

As every autumn they started harvesting my fruits. I always like when they do it, it makes me feel loved.
They started working and it seemed as it was every year. But it wasn´t.
In between my brunches their eyes were meeting, collecting my fruits their fingers were quickly crossing, their smiles were always open to each other and, before sunset, their lips softly touched...
It was incredible but I was the only one to recognize that two of them were in love.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

THE CAR RADIO

The car radio was playing some beautiful forbidden swing and they were having fun.
Suddenly the music was interrupted and the voice of a man started speaking instead.
All the chatter and laughs stopped.
The boys exulted.
The girls´eyes were already fulfilled with tears.
It was the 10th of June 1940.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

THE BASKET

In the shadow, at my feet she left a basket; then she went to hoe in the field nearby.
She was working hard, her sweat glinted on her front and the sun didn´t have mercy that afternoon.
After some time she came back to the basket. Its content was moving, it was wrapped in white sheet; she sitted, she opened her blouse and took it to her breast.
That very day I learned how gorgeous a mother looks.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

THE SUN

It was raining like if it never rained before.
She found some refuge under my leaves when she arrived. Her light dress was completley wet and sticked to her body as a second skin. Her long brown hair was falling on her face heavy with rain in every curl. She was keeping her arms around her breast trying to warm up a bit. She was so beautiful!
After a while we saw him walking towards us. Her cheeks blushed; she smiled.
The sun was there.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

THE EMBRACE

They always secretly met here.
But that day there was something different; I recognized it from the way they embraced. It was a long, strong embrace and when they untied their arms she was softly crying.
He was wearing a black shirt.
She was Jew.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

THE GUILT

She arrived running.

Her dress was as black as those winter nights without moon.

I think she was young but her face was nearly completely covered with a dark veil.

It was long ago and I am afraid my memory can’t recall all of it but I clearly remember the shouts of those men. They got her under my leaves and knocked her down throwing grave stones. She felt, she cried and her life was gone.

They said her guilt was love.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

THE CICADAS

It was one of these hot summer days when, in the still air of the afternoon, a bicycle stopped near me.

The man that was riding it left the bicycle at a side and walked under my leaves to rest in the shadow. He took his straw hat off, bended his light linen jacket at a side and sat with his back on my trunk. He remained like this for few minutes observing the nature around then, he took out of the jacket’s pocket a little black book and a pen.

The cicadas were singing loud and their song told me this man was a poet writing about us on his moleskine.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

A BEAUTIFUL SUMMER NIGHT

It was a beautiful sweet summer night, the moon was high in the sky and so bright that you could think she polished herself for some special occasion.

That very night I was being cradled by the music of my friend the nightingale when something started to tickle me. I thought I was alone; everything seemed quiet but this something that was tickling me.

The nightingale interrupted his song and, in the suddenly silent air, the only thing I could hear were sights of pain. The tickling was not ceased but it slowly became less acute and when it stopped also the sights were gone.

When the nightingale started a new sad song I looked down at my limbs and, in the moonlight, I saw the shape of a hanged man.

(The Olive Tree Tales)

HIS MARK

She was whispering in his ears how afraid she was.

I remember he was holding her tight in the evening sun.

He slowly caressed her unripe breasts.

She seemed to shake but she forced herself to smile and then she drunk honey from his lips.

I don’t remember which year it was but if you somewhen pass by, you might be able to read it on me.

He left his mark on us both: on me their names, in her his seed.

(The Olive Tree Tales)