Madre Vasca

What names will the stones have
That saw her walk
My mother when she was a child
Or maybe a shepherdess

The tree under whose shade
She rested, where will it be
How good if I found it
To pray or cry

I must arrive someday
In Basque land to sing
Oh mother! From very far away
In my songs you will return

Your blood inside my veins
Will grow like a river
And the wind, which is generous
Will point out its tree

How good if I found it
To pray or cry