The Mimosa Tree

Recently we talked about the exemplum of a flower. Some days later, in a spirit still attentive to the teachings of the natural world, I found a beautiful version of “El aromo”, “The Mimosa Tree” on an album by Soledad Villamil (an actress I like very much who, besides acting, also sings). This milonga is a collaboration between the Argentine singer Atahualpa Yupanqui and the Uruguayan poet Romildo Risso, also the composers of “Los ejes de mi carreta”, “The axles of my cart” – see below –, whose similarity to this song was immediately discovered by the attentive ear of Tamás.


“Soledad Villamil Canta” (Sony Music 2007)

El Aromo (milonga) Romildo Risso - Atahualpa Yupanqui. Hay un aromo nacido en la grieta de una piedra. Parece que la rompió pa’ salir de adentro de ella. Está en un alto pela’o, no tiene ni un yuyo cerca, Viéndolo solo y florido Tuito el monte lo envidea. Lo miran a la distancia árboles y enredaderas, diciéndose con rencor: “¡Pa uno solo, cuánta tierra!” En oro le ofrece al sol pagar la luz que le presta. Y como tiene de más, puña’os por el suelo siembra. Salud, plata y alegría, tuito al aromo, la suebra Asegún ven los demás dende el lugar que lo observan. Pero hay que dir y fijarse como lo estruja la piedra. Fijarse que es un martirio la vida que le envidean. Que en ese rajón, el árbol nació por su mala estrella. y en vez de morirse triste se hace flores de sus penas… Como no tiene reparo, todos los vientos le pegan. Las heladas lo castigan L’agua pasa y no se queda. Ansina vive el aromo sin que ninguno lo sepa. Con su poquito de orgullo porque es justo que lo tenga. Pero con l’alma tan linda que no le brota una queja. Que en vez de morirse triste se hace flores de sus penas. ¡Eso habrían de envidiarle los otros, si lo supieran!

The Mimosa Tree (milonga) Romildo Risso – Atahualpa Yupanqui A mimosa tree was born In the crevice of a rock It is thought that he once cracked it To escape from its insides. Upright on a barren cliff Not a weed is close at hand, Seeing him so lone and blossomed He’s the envy of the land. Gazing at it from afar Grudgingly, the trees and vines All will murmur to each other ‘All that soil for only one.’ Gold he offers to the sun As a payment for its light And because of his abundance Scatters handfuls to the ground. Health and riches and contentment The mimosa owns in plenty In the eyes of all the others Who are watching from their crannies. But one must get quite close to notice How the rock is pressing on him. And discover what a martyr’s Is the life that they all envy. For the tree began his being In that crack through his misfortune But instead of sadly dying Turns his sorrows into flowers. As he lacks the slightest shelter All the winds keep striking on him And the frost is harsh upon him, Water passes and won’t tarry. The mimosa goes on living No one knows these things about him. He has his pride, but just a little, What he’s justified in having. So, with such a lovely spirit, You will find him not complaining And instead of sadly dying Turns his sorrows into flowers. This is really what the others, If they knew it, should all envy.

As it unfortunately happens to me with so many works of Yupanqui, I had not known this milonga. But let us not complain, it is a luck to have found it. Perhaps it is true that some treasures come when we can really appreciate them, and this song is surely one of them.

The eloquent image of the mimosa tree standing proudly and all alone and struggling to find its place in the cleft of the rock reminded me an araucaria tree I had just seen in Neuquén.


But I was especially touched by the conflicting points of view and interests so poetically and precisely presented in the song. The envy of others seeing the mimosa tree as triumphant and glorious – as it happens so often to us when observing from outside the lives of others – and the truth of the tree which sacrifices itself and struggles to do its best in the place where destiny has brought it.

This song immediately recalls the ode by Machado, indissolubly linked with the melody by Serrat, to an old elm of the Duero.


As Julia has mentioned above “Los ejes de mi carreta”, let us also include it here. It has been my all-favorite from Atahualpa Yupanqui since Wang Wei showed it to me several years ago. Each time I listen to it, I always see the old Indian who gradually lost everything that had been dear in his life until he was left but one last companion, the creaking of the wheel.

Porque no engraso los ejes me llaman abandonao por que no engraso los ejes me llaman abandonao… Si a mí gusta que suenen ¿Pa’ qué los quiero engrasar? Si a mí me gusta que suenen ¿Pa’ qué los quiero engrasar? Es demasiado aburrido seguir y seguir la huella. Es demasiado aburrido seguir y seguir la huella, demasiado largo el camino sin nada que me entretenga No necesito silencio. Yo no tengo en qué pensar. No necesito silencio. Yo no tengo en qué pensar. Tenía, pero hace tiempo, ahura ya no pienso mas. Tenía, pero hace tiempo ahura ya no pienso mas Los ejes de mi carreta nunca los voy a engrasar

Because I do not grease the axles I am called a fool because I do not grease the axles I am called a fool but if I love that sound why should I grease them but if I love that sound why should I grease them It is far too boring to follow, to follow the track it is far too boring to follow, to follow the track the way is far too long with nothing to entertain me I do not need silence I have nothing to think about I do not need silence I have nothing to think about I had, but long ago now I do not think any more I had, but long ago now I do not think any more and the axles of my cart I will never grease

Atahualpa Yupanqui, 1908-2008