I Full of rubbing hands in the viscous water of a belly, the will of someone to whom I was destined to be placed. Birth by itself is a miracle the door to life and who would have wanted mine to be a mystery? |
IV Around three o’clock in May of the seventy-fifth, at two o’clock in the morning of a convent in San Sebastián. There are my coordinates in this open sea, but don't think I live in a lost bottle. |
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II Before I don’t know, now I am Michael removed or given that I have always had four arms and two hearts close by. Looking at my crib as a child, I raised my doubts and something I couldn’t get away with got into my belly. |
V A question wants to dry up wet with the doubt of creation but the ray of concern is that I am able to accept the answer. With the expectation of a yes rubbing under the belly, everything will stand between the truth and me. |
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III The medical note says that the mother died in the party. Unknown names and surnames mute old doctors. Not to mention the news of my father, there are murmurings here... Were my first tears to breathe? |
VI Life goes on normally I wouldn’t want the knot. The umbilical cord has a scar that is silent, but it asks me not to despair, whether alive or dead, in search of the other part that was cut and disappeared. |
The melody is:
A Small Fauna of the Sarasua Brothers in verses from the CD “Chechnya”. Send your lots to bertsoak@argia.eus. We will post the selected ones on this page.
Doinua: Mutil koxkor bat.
Urte askoan gurea izan da
abundantzien bailara
zenbat familia joan ote da
orain langabeziara?
Mahaian dago eztabaidagai
zer ginen eta zer gara
alfer alferrik izango dira
hemen ERE eta Hara!
Mentalitate aldaketa bat
ematen ez... [+]
Melody: Millet.
What pedagogical innovation for?
the
academic result will be measured,
equality will
be valued and the
mito.El low level of the Basque
is higher
than the Spanish...
The geroglyph that
repeats!
One, big and free of dew,
drinking and clicking are things... [+]