It's at night, I get into the car. The steep rains in the windshield and the moon touch me no, who you see tonight.” Anari presented us with these words and without the help of the guitar Ensure Mundua, the first song of his first work. With these words I met my world, which I have also done. With these words, the presentation in Bilbao of the book that collects the collection of all its words and translations has also begun.

The speaker in my house launched these words in the fall of 2004, while what for me should be a new world took the first steps. My friend Oihan, who I owe so much, brought my album home, with a woman's blurred face on the skin, when raindrops hit hard in my room window. Since then his voices, music and words have become the soundtrack of my life. The latter is a round truth, although it is the most topical and common among common places. My open wounds have become scars with the help of their music. The winged anchors have led me up many times that I have fallen, like when I was away from home and received the Zebra album. I found the skeleton of a whale in the desert that somebody created, when their smell began to disappear from my room, when they exiled me from their heart. I discovered suicidal birds in an old cassette etched long ago and kept in a can of pretty.

In the presentation, while answering the questions of Anari Jerry Corral, I remembered many wounds and many experiences while I was attentive to what the azkoitia said. He talked about translating his words. It tells us how words are alive, even during the recording. It brings us the cathartic moment that his referents commented and listened to Ruper's music with Atxaga's words. When making genealogies of women* musicians, he praised the cursed habit of citing only women and the work of the new generations, claiming that trap music seems more sad than Anari’s, underscoring the strength of that inferior chord between synth and voices. The presentation ended with the song Efemérideak, which was recently presented by J Martina. Song suitable to close one cycle and give way to another.

Before I go to sleep today I open the book and read his words for the umpteenth time. They'll take me to a thousand places and moments. Today, however, there will be no sharp rains against the windows. Perhaps, as Anari said in his presentation, songs are not written in the same way, they are not even heard, when you have just turned 20 or are about to turn 40.