Spanish team Fibonacci BREAD poem

Golden
wheat,
our wealth
in ancient fields.

Harvesting, threshing, grinding in mills
for soft flour to be kneaded into BREAD,
in the solitary dawn of the baker’s strong hand, the crusty wrapping waits.

For the poor and the rich. For toothless crawling eaters and walking ones. For slim purses and huge hearts, a TREASURE.

SPANISH TEAM FIBONACCI BREAD POEM in SPANISH

Trigo
dorado,
nuestra riqueza
de tierras antiguas.

Cosecha, trilla, molienda en molinos
para que harina suave se amase en PAN,
en el alba solitaria de manos fuertes de panadero, el crujiente envoltorio espera.

Para pobres y ricos. Para comensales desdentados que gatean y los que caminan. Para bolsillos delgados y corazones inmensos, un TESORO.