Maltês comes from here.
It’s from these fertile banks, this wild land, this sun-beaten soil. From this desert in the summer, mix of green-water and mist in the winter. From these shrivelled forests growing on the banks, from which olive trees sprout. From this spotted grove of trees, shelter of wild animals, food source for wild boars and Egyptian mongooses, trails for foxes and lynxes.
It’s from this land of holm-oaks, young cork oaks, kermes oaks. From these raw trees used furtively by the borderland peoples to fish, hunt, rest, and escape from the fiery heat. From this river of submerged boats, hidden from view, preserved from the sweltering southerly wind. It is of these wildernesses, with sparse civilisation but rich in everything else.
Maltês is from these lands left untended so that God may provide.
