Participants: Bide Ertzean, Oier Guillan, Asier Sarasola, Zuaznabar neba-arrebak, Joxan Artze. Where: Sutegi de Usurbil. When: Saturday, 3 May 2014. 22:00.

Joxan Artze reflects on the image created by Idoia Beratarbide for the show Nola belztu behar zuria. Joxan Artze, of meat, appeared more terribly in the Usurbil fire. I was curious. The show has been created from poems that have taken from their books of poems Bizia atea dukegu, death and Bizitza, portal of death. The members of Bide Ertzean, Oier Guillan and Asier Sarasola were classified as thirteen poems, including hundreds of poems. The author wanted to know which had been elected. He gave up the vertigo in the front row and sat further behind with his wife by his side. She lived a special night in the Sutegi Hall, crowded. The truth is, I think all the attendees have lived it.

The rock concert was not noticed when, ten minutes after ten, five men staged. Three musicians and two poets. Applause from the outset. Artze's voice mixed with pop in the very different way that Oier Guillan and Asier Sarasola have of saying poetry. It was a tender program of about an hour, with many beautiful moments. I found a small inconvenience in the concert: applause. It was a continuous switch, incapable of giving way to the confusion of music, and it seems to me that artists intended to achieve a decent atmosphere, with a well-spinned script, with well-measured and silent tempos. The applause pause took you back and forth at the beginning. He had not just penetrated the environment that he had been prepared for. I think it can be better and it can be better. In other words, we must ask that they do not applaud. I'm not who to ban applause, and I'm not going to try to applaud (in this sense, the publisher Edo just published Harrkaitz Cano Txalorik ez, ez), but... What if we kept all the applause for the end?

For you to understand: Bide Ertzean concluded the poem converted into a song: “…those who love/with clear love/day to day/more love and clearer.” Effort of silence at the end of the song. And in that, when you were about to enjoy your favors, plas, plas, plas. That's it. Goodbye, time. Let's make a parallel reality. Bide Ertzean ends her song: “…not so the beauty that he made us once from the heart, from the heart”. Silence and the end of the melody. A single voice that will break it soon and that will mute the words of Artze. Better, right? The entrance must be accompanied by a cover to keep the applause.

The most tangible moment brought the end. Honored when Joxan Artze ascended. The word tailor could not contain emotion. I was nervous. He felt excited and Artze, from time to time, kept quiet to breathe (or to find the right words). “Buy yourself, Joxanton, buy yourself,” he said by repeating the mantra that his wife often tells him. The poet took into account his wife and sister Txaro. He liked the gift given to him by members of Jexux Artze Kultur Elkartea: This work was written by the painter José Luis Zumeta and serigraphed by Usoa Zumeta. And he liked Zuaznabar when his family touched the txalaparta as before.

Sutegi turned on with the last song, Mikel Laboa made it so known with Artze’s words with “Txoria TXORI”. Instead of addressing the musicians who were there, they played a recording in which he sang together with the Euskadi Symphony Orchestra. Maybe if Bide Ertzean had played it, maybe if people had suddenly started singing, but the thing about making the recording -- I don't know, I have to confess, it was the thing I liked the least.