We will not reward the serpents

I have lived to see it,
My friend,
My dream has finally come true.
Through the years my lovely tree
Has been growing.

Lithe, with forceful branches,
Well accustomed to storms.
My friend,
For the years of affliction,
I am now adorned with courage.

I look at my tree in the orchard,
And hear, too, this marvelous song.
For we are the brave and the free ones,
We have neither grown daunted nor tired. 

We will not reward the serpents
That have so betroubled the world,
Who want to poison the mind of the people
With deeds that with horror well up.

True, troubled times are not over,
We are still struggling bitter and hard,
But I hear from the serpents
The wild cry of pain
Growing fainter and fainter by turns.

And that's why my gaze is so pure,
It's true that my heart is in pain,
But better to suffer the wounds of a mother
Than to be in the enemy's paws.