Aldapeko

At the tip of the apple tree branch
At the tip of the tip
There was a bird singing.

Xiru-liruli, xiru-liruri,
Who will dance
to that little tune?

In the meadow of Zubiburu
Under the forest of the mountain,
Under the under,
There is a beautiful lily.
Xiru-liruli, xiru-liruri,
Who will pick
that charming lily?

The sorrow of my heart
that I have endured in this century,
The sorrow of sorrow,
how should I bear it?
Xiru-liruli, xiru-liruri,
Take my love
for my sorrow!

Farewell!