Poesia kaiera
N.Y.
Ene hiria, ene maitea, ene zuria! Ai, mehe hori,
Entzun! Entzun niri, eta arima bat ufatuko dut zure baitan.
Eztiki xaramelaren gainean, beha niri!
Orain badakit eroturik nagoela,
Milioi bat lagun baitaude trafikoarekin ernegaturik;
Hiri hau ez da birjina.
Eta nik ez nuke xaramela jotzerik izanen, halakorik banu ere.
Ene hiria, ene maitea,
Bularrik gabeko dontzeila zara zu,
Mehea zara zilarrezko xaramela bat bezain.
Entzun, beha nazazu!
Eta arima bat ufatuko dut zure baitan
Eta betiko biziko zara.
N.Y.
My City, my beloved, my white! / Ah, slender, / Listen! Listen to me, and I will breathe into thee a soul. / Delicately upon the reed, attend me! // Now do I know that I am mad, / For here are a million people surly with traffic; / This is no maid. / Neither could I play upon any reed if I had one. // My City, my beloved, / Thou art a maid with no breasts, / Thou art slender as a silver reed. / Listen to me, attend me! / And I will breathe into thee a soul, / And thou shalt live for ever.