01 - Sarrera (Intro)

Staring to the night while flying in matchboxes
wet streets because of the rust’s steam
I did not know how many times, till the knots broke my stomach
I did not understand, neither did you, not that we needed it.

02 - Azken hatsean (In my last breath)

It’s true, what I told you in the corner of that sidewalk
while you draw half-moons on the floor, with the sweat of your glass
in the same place where we’d never put down roots.

Sorrows will find you, no matter of how much you walk
but that does not mean I shall wait for them every day.
There is no bread on the table, because we don’t have no table.
I can be anywhere, but not anytime.

I cannot stare into the sky, from the edge of the road.
Your light blinds me: let me ask for one last wish!

In my last breath, I don’t want to see you.

03 Maldan behera (Downhill)

They are wearing blue feathers today
from feet to neck, ignoring the law.
They fit in them fingers of one of my hands,
too many, anyhow, for the judging dove.
I don’t like peace,
I’m coming from the damp dessert to raise dust.

Downhill, downhill,
without reaching the sea,
if we are water, I don’t want to live in a halted well.
Downhill, downhill,
without reaching the sea,
I had already given my last minutes without realizing.

Today I come dressed with blue leather,
shoes already sold, my feet not forgotten.
They fit in one square meter,
too much for the judging dove.
I don’t like peace,
I’m coming from the damp dessert to raise dust.

Time inside an envelope,
sizes and rules to be washed down the sink
I am going downhill looking for my summit,
one day we learned that the distance is not true.

04 Hamaika izar (Loads of stars)

On the teeth of the pear skin eyes, impossible dreams suffer: loads of nights I’ve been awake, wondering about your wicked tongue games. Even if I was young, fatigue knows how to break bones; at this point I am unable to distinguish truth from fiction, when was it… day after tomorrow.

There are loads of stars in the sky,
and I’m bored by their sparkle.
By the end of January frogs have gathered
for the race of the crescent moon.

Born and die, I die, I’ve not created:
I want to be a loser; you’ve worn out my passion.
You can judge my decisions
I’ll build a stone boat and I’ll live on board.

Born and die, die and create:
I want to be a loser; you’ve worn out my passion.
I’m broken; my face has turned awful,
but I’ve stolen your teeth’s psalms.

I’ve stolen psalms from your teeth.
I ate light and now I miss it.
In my darkness don’t guide me.
Even if you try, accept it, you won’t be able to forget me.

There are loads of stars in the sky,
and I’m bored by their sparkle.
The dirtiest kitchen is our crib,
we dance standing on the memory.

Born and die, I die, I’ve not created:
I want to be a loser; you’ve worn out my passion.
There is no answer on the other side
he has choked it all with the cable of the phone.

Born and die, die and create:
I want to be a loser; you’ve worn out my passion.
I’m broken; my face has turned awful,
but I’ve stolen your teeth’s psalms.

05 Esnatu nintzen (I woke up)

Awake dreams kidnap my night
and I wasn’t able to sleep for ages.
As if a hyena, skin and bone,
I sold the pass in exchange of a corpse,
that’s how hungry I was.
Then, my words started to stink
and I was no longer able to caress nobody.
I forgot what it was to live
and I grabbed the sheet, as if it was the helm.
You didn’t get me the oars, you broke my sails,
unintentional murder though
passive smoker I was.
No guilty here, I never knew how to turn reality into fiction.

 

But there was a time when fatigue put me to sleep
to be able to feast the butterflies just hatched from the maggots,
as if pasture.
I woke up mortal,
to abandon the pale and to hold onto life.
You can steal my time
it is not as valuable as breathe,
golden kisses will never feed me.
But there was a time when fatigue put me to sleep,
and now, every night, the full-moon follows me home.
I woke up mortal
to mix truth and lies in the same cup.
I don’t need no sugar.
My coffee is black blues, now and forever.
Now and forever, till I undress my skin
now and forever I will use up the world under my feet,
till the crows strangle me under their wings.

I woke up mortal, under the wings.
Choking, the life, the kisses, I was a hyena,
till the crows strangle me.
But I was finally able to sleep.

06 Mitxoleta (Poppy)

We are leaving the city behind under our ceilings
giant metal boxes have appeared.
Light gave up at this dead end
your lips have it in for another name:
it’ll be the next one, no longer mine.
Therefore, I took off to the village that I couldn’t reach
I still had gorse waiting in the fridge
to return to the body, thorn by thorn, what it had been forgotten.

I lost my way few times
to cuddle the moss on the trees.
Hang in, my poppy
to bloom you need no one,
if you fear the ice
I’ll turn you immortal with the blood of my menses.

We are living the city behind under our ceilings
giant metal boxes have appeared.
Light gave up dimming snowfalls
it is hard to say goodbye, now, here, face to face.
Call me back, send a signal
I will take off again to the village that I couldn’t reach.

Hang in, my poppy
to bloom you need no one,
if you fear the ice
I’ll turn you immortal with the blood of my menses.

07 Munstroa (Monster)

I’ve built a million lies,
in the past months, in the past years.

I’ve verbalized that I’m humble
innocent, shy.
That I’ve never written a song
which I like my vocal cords on.
That I’ve tasted nobody
besides you, lately.
‘I am not crazy as a loon!’ I shout to my brother,
while I am an only child.
I’ve told you that I have so much to regret…
Damn! Only If I could choose,
among all that I will not regret.
And it is not ordinary to see me drunk,
it is the others who have swollen tongues and perspective.
I walk straight these crooked sidewalks
at five in the morning, four shafts in the watch.

Forgive me, forgive me,
I know I am selfish
but lies do know too something about the truth.
I’ve changed for the better,
I won’t spend more nights crying.
But for you,
for you I am just a liar.

Thinking that I was torn apart,
guts own me, feet are their slave.
There is no truth or lie,
we’ve got million roads.

Give me your hand
and instead of escape, let’s face it.
If we have to starve to death,
we shall before strip the monster.

If we have to starve to death,
we shall before strip the monster!

08 Papiroa loretan (Blooming papyrus)

Black fox,
that with words stolen from eastern inkwells,
cover the hair gone gray.

The papyrus is blooming
using my own nature
I have bristle my ears, straighten my chest.

As if I was the blooming papyrus
throwing arrows that seem harmless,
to the throats, to the throats.
The glottis is a closed shutter.
The glottis is a closed shutter.
The distance is now nearness,
the near, distant.

The papyrus has bloomed
the papyrus has bloomed
the papyrus has bloomed
we don’t want to make history.

09 Attrezzo (Props)

Black ribbons under the eyes,
mourning, mourning,
ivy climbing the walls
bending our home.
Trying to straighten water,
we drown, we drown.
If the rain finds leather on its way,
it will have no mercy.
We’d never had mercy for the world
that all the lovers become imperfect
we didn’t want to watch.
And I have lost lyrics by the ton,

exhausted the meaning, while I blame it,
although I say that there is none…
who will be, will it be me?
I’ve heard Rock n’ Roll
to be the way, the school
but it’s not the same from the back and from the front
I’ve turn the curtain back and forth
I’ve lost it, it has put me down,
I’ve let it be like this,
again, again.

How pale the ceilings are
elegantly dressed, prophets whisper
telling me they don’t remember my name
saying, without saying, looking down on me.
I want to stop the red prop
that runs in their veins, their savage arrogance:
we all are silent witnesses
we have filled the dessert with garbage so fast.
In this ocean of coat.

I am flying away, not flying
I’d rather have my feet on the ground
I can’t fit in one adjective:
language restricts me
the idea corrupts me, today
since I woke up this morning
yesterday’s remains the same.
I cannot knock it down, I cannot cut my shadow.
As the one that the world is carrying, it has given up,
it has admitted that amnesia doesn’t heal,
that no piece of paper cures the really ill.

10 So egin (Look)

Look, look, look at the fire
to draw with burnt branches.
Talk, talk, ah! Fear
to chase it away whispering.

Shall the will
of pulling out the fangs calm?
Will I be able to build a future
with the ruins of void cinemas?

Shall the will
of pulling out the fangs calm?
Will I be able to build a future
with the ruins of void cinemas?
Lime bleach all the walls
crack the ones with no windows.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

© 2020 Eneritz Furyak.

English translations by Eneko Urizar

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