Aragon´s desert (strings) by Pilpil Music

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In Los Monegros, where the land is dry,
No plants to see, just rocks and sand,
The wind picks up, and starts to fly,
Creating dust devils, oh so grand.

The sun beats down, with fiery force,
On this almost-deserted place,
A barren land, without remorse,
That shows no sign of any grace.

But in this wasteland, nature thrives,
Adapted to the harsh terrain,
The smallest plant, somehow survives,
In this hostile and unforgiving domain.

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