Mikel Laboa [1934-2008]

•→http://en.wikipedia.org/Mikel_Laboa      /      •→obituary

♦  Baga biga higa  ↓  [from Julio Medem’s «Euskal pilota: Larrua harriaren kontra» – 2003]

Baga, biga, higa,    laga, boga, sega,
Zai, zoi, bele,    harma, tiro, pun!
Xirristi-mirristi
gerrena plat,     Olio zopa,     Kikili salda,
Urrup edan edo klik … ikimilikiliklik …

 

◊  Martxa baten lehen notak  ↓

«The sun melts down the top snow – water keeps gushing down the valleys

We have the sun within us – the heart which can melt and the light which can scrape ice and darkness

With as much generosity as passion, let’s see the whole truth neatly

Each deconstructing their own, and ours all together – let’s widen up the human path

Each one’s their own master – no-one’s  subjugated – The future is ours if we stick together

We can’t get satisfied while someone’s starving – We won’t get free while someone’s oppressed»

Eguzkiak urtzen du gohian  gailurretako euria
uharka da jausten ibarrera  geldigaitza den oldarra.

Gure baita datza eguzkia  iluna eta izotza
urratu dezakeen argia  utuko den bihotza.

Bihotza bezain bero zabalik  besoak eta eskuak
gorririk ikus dezagun egia  argiz beterik burua.

Bakoitzak urraturik berea  denon artean geurea
etengfabe gabiltza zabaltzen  gizatasunari bidea.

Inon ez inor menpekorokan  nor bere buruaren jabe
herri guztioak bat eginikan  ez gabiltza gerorik gabe.

Batek goserikan diraueino  ez gara gu asetuko
beste bat loturik deino  ez gara libre izango.

♦ → Gure bazterrak  ↓  (‘Our places’)

«I love our places when the mist hides them from me, when I can’t see what`s being hidden:
it is then that I get a glimpse of the hidden places that come alive from within.»

♦  Sorterriko koplak  ↓  (‘Original Songs’)

-translation:

The beeches are soaked in the wood – three swallows set off to fly

they all want to perch onto the rainbow

If not red, roses are white – not nearly as pretty as the girls’ smiles
My steps downhill are always bitter – it’s autumn, not springtime, dark clouds blanket the sky

When the dove hides, my heart’s grief-stricken

Come to me, my love, I want your company at night

 

Wood oak trees, valley wheat fields – we’re like the fruits reaping slowly

Red apples on the branch – the lady’s in her room – wishing for my kisses… for my hugs

Night falls like a lost feather – your tongue’s like a plum – your heart’s my anchor

The owl hoots from afar, stray dogs bark  –  I’ll remain a whole century singing verses to you.

◊   Txoria txori  ↓  (‘Bird bird’)

Hegoak ebaki banizkio        –        IF I’D CUT OFF ITS WINGS 
      nerea izango zen,           –          IT’D  BE MINE
 ez zuen aldegingo.        –        IT WOULD NOT FLY AWAY
Bainan, honela         –       BUT, THEN                  
                        ez zen gehiago txoria izango       –       IT WOULD NOT BE A BIRD ANYMORE
          eta nik…  txoria nuen maite.      –     AND… IT’S THE BIRD I LOVED

         ♦ → Izarren Hautsa  ↓  [‘Stardust’]

Izarren hautsa egun batean bilakatu zen bizigai,
hauts hartatikan uste gabean noizpait ginaden gu ernai.
Eta horrela bizitzen gera sortuz ta sortuz gure aukera
atsedenik hartu gabe: lana eginaz goaz aurrera
kate horretan denok batera gogorki loturik gaude.

Gizonak ba du inguru latz bat menperatzeko premia,
burruka hortan bizi da eta hori du bere egia.
Ekin ta ekin bilatzen ditu, saiatze hortan ezin gelditu,
jakintza eta argia; bide ilunak nekez aurkitu
lege berriak noizpait erditu, hortan jokatuz bizia.

Gizonen lana jakintza dugu: ezagutuz aldatzea,
naturarekin bat izan eta harremanentan sartzea.
Eta indarrak ongi errotuz, gure sustraiak lurrari lotuz,
bertatikan irautea: ezaren gudaz baietza sortuz,
ukazioa legetzat hartuz beti aurrera joatea.

Ez dadukanak ongi ohi daki euketzea zein den ona,
bere premiak bete nahirik beti bizi da gizona.
Gu ere zerbait ba gera eta gauden tokitik hemendik bertan
saia gaitezen ikusten: amets eroak bazterturikan,
sasi zikinak behingoz erreta bide on bat aukeratzen.

Gu sortu ginen enbor beretik sortuko dira besteak,
burruka hortan iraungo duten zuhaitz-ardaska gazteak.
Beren aukeren jabe eraikiz ta erortzean berriro jaikiz
ibiltzen joanen direnak : gertakizunen indar ta argiz
gure ametsa arrazoi garbiz egiztatuko dutenak.

Eta ametsa bilakaturik egiaren antziduri
herri zahar batek bide berritik ekingo dio urduri;
guztian lana guztien esku jasoko dute sendo ta prestu,
beren bizitzen edargai; diru zakarrak bihotzik eztu,
lotuko dute gogor ta hestu haz ez dadin gizonen gain.   

◊  Gaberako aterbea  ↓  (‘Homeless Shelter’)  [Hamabi_1989]

I’ve been told that in New York, at the junction of 26 street with Broadway, all through the winter

There’s a man every night who, begging the passers-by, provides a shelter for the hopeless there gathering.

That’s not the way to change the world – Human relationships don´t get any better

This is not the way to shorten the age of exploitation – but a few men get a bed for the night: one whole night sheltered from the wind and snow 

Do not quit the book that teaches you, man.

Kontatu didate Nueva York-en  Broadway eta 26 karrikaren kantoian,
Negu gorrian, gizon batek gabero
jendeari otoi eskatzen  aterbea bilatzen duela  bilutsirik daudenentzat.

Mundua ez da era hortan aldatzen
Gizonen hartu-emanak ez dire hobekitzen
zama-aroa ez da hola laburtzen

Baina gizon batzuek gau batez, ohea dute
aterbean haize hotzik ez eta
berei zihoakien elurra karrikan ari da

Liburuaren irakaspenik ez ahaztu gizona!

Gizon batzuek gau batez ohea dute,
aterbean haize otzik ez eta
bereri zijoakien elurra, karrikan ari da.

Bainan mundua ez da era hortan aldatzen
Gizonen hartu-emanak ez dira hobekitzen
zama-aroa ez da hola laburtzen.

«Your eyes hurt me – your mouth frightens me – I’d like you for myself – a boundless feeling

I’m a ship, drifting away – crashed into a thousand rocks, but the stream never fails to take me to your coast

I’m nothing without you – no reason to live – All my aims, even when achieved, come to nothing compared to you» 

←Zure begiek  (‘Your Eyes’)

♦  Loha loa  ↓  [ Xoriek 17]

÷        ÷                  ÷        ÷                  ÷        ÷

♦  Kepa Junkera  ↓  «Bok-Espok» ←

♣  Oma, the painted forest – ‘Omako basoa’ ⇒

The Animated or Painted Forest is in Kortezubi, near the small neighbourhood of Oma. Bilbao sculptor and artist Agustín Ibarrola [1930-2023] started painting it in 1983 and didn’t finish it until 1991. He wanted to stress a new connection between nature and art by linking the works of Palaeolithic artists with the modern movement known as Land Art.

Since the turn of the century, Agustín has been targeted by terrorists, and the forest vandalised by radicals on three occasions;  later restored by Fine Arts students. In 2020 the wood was closed down due to a fungus which fatally affects pine trees in the Basque Country. Three years later, the painted forest has been restored and relocated nearby.

♦  Txalaparta  ↓

•→Legends and Popular Tales of the Basque People←by Mariana Monteiro [1887]

 •→Basque Legends←by Wentworth Webster [1879]

◊  Lands of Nevada  ⇓  [Mark Knopfler]

These Tables Are Haunted
By The Ghosts Of Las Vegas
Their Chips Were Once Mountains
But They Came Here To Play
They Could Take Me If They Wanted
But I Have Nothing Worth Counting
And Like The Sands Of Nevada
They Go Drifting Away

Lady Luck’s Still A Mystery
With Her Head On My Shoulder
And I Don’t Know Why
I Still Want Her To Dance
I Guess That’s All History
What It Is Is I’m Older
And I’m Still A Fool
For A One-Way Romance

Her Dice Were Red Rubies
They Rolled And They Tumbled
And I Never Saw Time
Running Out With My Roll
And In A Wasteland Of Cut Glass
My Dreams Have All Crumbled
And I’ve Paid With Whatever
I Had Left For A Soul

Now The Dawn’s Broken Even
On An Empty Horizon
No Reason For Folding
No Reason To Stay
It’s Too Soon To Be Leaving
Too Late For Criticising
And The Sands Of Nevada
They Go Drifting Away