On the blue horizon,
patina of time to reach
Roca rested their way
In centuries gone quickly.
E indefatigable on his coat
moss, soap and cold
From not know how many hours or periods,
The Always drop fell.
Certainly there were days
Drop In what was there.
When Rock was another, probably
Just mountain flower.
At that time, under the sky
And on the earth appeal,
Agua Clara, gentle moon reflected,
Through the eyes of star and sun heat.
But Rock did not realize it,
until that day,
In felt on her flesh mineral
Rubbing Drop tear falling.
and did not know when he deceased
His loneliness of rock, stone infertile
But if that was the straw who chased away the silence
With the silent cry its perennial friction.
his body was transformed Roca,
With watery furrows long history,
And thought about the origin of Drop that gnawed
His sullen stillness of Rock proud.
more to do, she realized that the drop continued,
The stillness of Clear Water, under the sky
And on the earth ennobled,
Screaming is, life living.
Luengos times are over,
Maybe in a few days,
But not just once
Drop stopped his coming.
So lost Rock, yesterday still stone
One by one, its component parts,
But not lost to see the drop
Theirs left her,
While also, what he was wearing.
Several centuries ago,
That Rock was no longer where it was,
As much as it is today,
At the foot of the mountain flood
A soft water, known to all
Como Agua de Roca, the bienquerida.
The legend of one who does not forget
That on top of the mountain had,
A pond Stone lost love. And that silence
rocky, its stillness was due.
But what else could his love and life
That coupled to the Rock wanted to share.
And so, drop by drop, decided that he
to descend the mountain where he lived
to pierce the Rock, who received her happy,
And be together, to the summit by foot, water
Rock, my dear.
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