Ikusten duzu goizean
the facade of a house shimmering, in between four oaks,
with a white dog at the front door and a small fountain next door?
There I live, peacefully.
Although it is not a palace I love my birthplace,
chosen by my ancestors. Away from home I find myself as if I were lost.
Like there is were I was born, there I will leave this world,
if I do not lose my mind.
At home I have my own goads, hoes, plows yoke and straps.
For the moment, I do well, there is plenty of grain of
last year’s crop. We will not starve if I
collect the same amount of grain this year.
Three cows graze in the meadows their udders are filled with milk
with their calves and steers. Two white face oxen
with their black spine with big horns, rams, tender lambs
goats and sheep; they are all mine.
There is no man in the world, nor prince or king that is
happier than I am. I have a wifea son, a daughter,
and on the other hand, good health and furthermore
sufficient goods, what more is there to ask?
I start my task in the morning but when night falls
I am the master of my table. When I married my wife
I got hold of a good christian. In days of abstinence,
she will not introduced a bone of bacon
into the stew, not even by mistake.
Piarres is my son, a very sharp boy, for his age.
Early he leads the flock to the pasture. If he continues
my steps, as it seems to be, he will not lose the farm.
My daughter Kattalin, is elevenyears old, who resembles
her mother much. She has her same eyes, like the background
of the blue sky. I believe that with time, she will
become a good woman.
Living well on this earth we must not
leave to hunger our companion. The need has never called at our door,
except when we have had a good banquet and there is a seat beside us.
My wife Mary, is a hard working woman, not too corpulent.
At home with a smile, I get what I wish. I ask for the grace,
to finish my life as the way I began it.
Elizamburu of Sara in Lapurdi, of the nineteenth century, for many, the most popular and best poet of the Basques. If happiness in the agricultural life existed, there is no other way to sing it more beautifully. If it was possible, now we have a touching moment missed.
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