Bizitzarekin dantzan

by the side of a riverbank
the sound of a guitar spreading in the wind;
in the brightness of fire
we become shadows, not like those who are not with us.
In the long stretch of time
everything beautiful is touched by a gentle breeze
that is much much smaller than death
we dance with life
The future is a mirage
believe in the echoes;
go up to the mountain and see
the world is more beautiful with friends