Azken oyua
Goiz eder honetan erail behar nabe
txindor baten txintak gozotan naukela?
El naiten leyora begiok intz gabe.
Gorbei barna yatort kañoi-ots itzela:
or egazkin-egak odei-lapur doaz.
Guda-gotzon baltzak odolez dakustaz,
euren oin aurrean beredin gudari.
Gazte argi horreik, eutsi lur amari!
Bera baizen onik eztauko ludiak.
Baña, Jaun altsua, orain ken nahi nozu?
Bildots baten antzez lotuta naukozu
bearren naunean neure Aberriak?
Aren deia dantzut arma-ots larrian.
Izkillu-tarteko dirdira bizian
mendi goitietan Eriotz betorkit.
Bertan eder dira azkenengo atsak!
Arte adartsu babes-toki bekit,
neure gezi meion eriotz-zauria
txastau dagientzat etsaien erranak!
Zuzentzaren maitez bil diran semeekin
ixuri daidala bizitz-iturria.
Lurra estal bedi odol-larrosakin!
Gozo eta eder gizonen kopetan
aberri-opazko eriotz mosuak!
Zauritu horreik zut, orra mendietan
aintzak zabal ditu esku argituak
ortxe jausi nedin!
Eta azken orduan
laztandu naiela arnasa estuan
garaitz-abar billa doazen (t) zaldiak.
Eta begi onein laño leyartuan
tinki igaro beitez gizuren argiak;
esku zurbil honeik aul luzatu bediz
eutsi zagientzat, ikurrin donea.
Azkatasun atsak betiko bil zagiz!
Antxe makur zaite, oi buru neurea,
geure lur amaren besarte gozoan!
Eta anai maiteok, eutsi burrukari
iñoiz ilgo eztan euzkoen amari.
Itxaropen auxe sort bekit gogoan.
Jauna, eriotz au arren emostazu;
koldarrentzat itxi larrosen usaña.
Azkatasun deuna bial egistazu,
atzindu nahi dot ba arrotzen iraña,
gorputz honek bakez atseden dagian
erri azkatuen Egun-Aundi arte!
Gudan jaus nadilla zuzentzaren alde,
ez ormari atzez, goiz eder argian.
Eta bake deuna sortuko danean
neure azur utsak besteenakin batu;
eresi gurenaz lagundu bidean
obi bakar-arte.
Baña, arren, bukatu
oroigailluaren maitasun itzala
Kistoren gurutzat; Beragan ditxarot.
Josu'ren fedea besterik eztaukot.
Erri zintzo-onenak zaindu dagiala
il gintzanen atsa, il gintzanen ala.
The Last Battle
In this beautiful morning, I must be killed
Would the bells of a single bell ring for me in joy?
Don't close your eyes to the law.
Inside Gorbeia, a perfect echo:
they go through the storm-clouds.
The brave warriors of the war-god
stand before their feet.
Those bright young ones, hold on to the mother earth!
He was not a coward.
But, Almighty Lord, what do you want now?
You won't be tied to a single image
in the presence of each other's homeland?
The call to dance in a weaponless struggle.
The noise in the midst of silence in life
in the high mountains of Eriotz.
There, the last breaths are beautiful!
A safe haven in the artful place,
my wounded soul in the Eriotz wilderness
for those who seek the enemy's words!
With the sons who love the love of justice
the source of life has been revealed.
Cover the earth with blood-stained tears!
In the chests of joyful and beautiful men
the rough stones of the homeland!
Wound them, oh mountains,
the open hands have wide fingers
I fell there!
And in the last hour
if you want to breathe in the heat
the horses that go to find the victory
And with eyes full of tears
pass through the light of men;
extend these humble hands
for those who seek, the lost symbol.
Seek the eternal warmth of kindness!
You are truly cursed, oh my head,
in the sweet embrace of our mother earth!
And dear brothers, hold on to the burden
never turn your back on the mother of the Basques.
Hope will always be born in the heart.
Lord, even if it is a wilderness
close the door of the rough ones for the cold.
Speak the sweet language of kindness,
I want to forget the anger of the arrogant,
this body resting in peace
until the Great Day of the oppressed lands!
In the battle, towards the side of justice,
not behind the shadows, in the beautiful morning light.
And when the true peace is created
gather my empty souls with others;
help us on the path
until the last breath.
But, then, finish
the shadow of the love of the cross;
In the crossing of Kistor, in the Beragan.
I only have the faith of Josu.
The true ones have been waiting
for the warmth that burned us, that burned us.