Poesia kaiera
Kontzientzia eragozlea
Hilko naiz, baina hori baino ez dut egingo Heriogatik.
Entzuten diot zaldia ateratzen ukuilutik; entzuten dut zalaparta kortako behegainean.
Presaka dabil; zereginak ditu Kuban, zereginak Balkanetan, bisita asko goizeon.
Baina ez diot bridari helduko zingila estutzen duelarik.
Eta bere kabuz igotzea dauka zaldi gainera: ez dut nik aupatuko.
Ni jo arren zigorraz sorbaldetan, ez diot esango nondik joan den ihesi azeria.
Haren apatxa bular gainean daukadala ere, ez diot esango non dagoen gorderik mutiko
beltza zingiran.
Hilko naiz, baina hori baino ez dut egingo Heriogatik; ez nau soldatapeko.
Ez diot esango lagunak nondik nora dabiltzan, ez eta etsaiak ere.
Promes asko egin arren, ez diot egingo maparik ezein gizonen ateraino heltzeko.
Espioia al naiz ba bizidunen herrian, Heriori gizonak eroateko?
Neba, pasahitza eta gure hiriko planoak salbu daude nirekin; nire bitartez sekula
ez zaitu garaituko.
Conscientious Objector
I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for Death. // I hear him leading his horse out of the stall; I hear the clatter on the barn-floor. / He is in haste; he has business in Cuba, business in the Balkans, many calls to make this morning. / But I will not hold the bridle while he cinches the girth. / And he may mount by himself: I will not give him a leg up. // Though he flick my shoulders with his whip, I will not tell him which way the fox ran. / With his hoof on my breast, I will not tell him where the black boy hides in the swamp. / I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for Death; I am not on his pay-roll. // I will not tell him the whereabouts of my friends nor of my enemies either. / Though he promise me much, I will not map him the route to any man’s door. / Am I a spy in the land of the living, that I should de- liver men to Death? / Brother, the password and the plans of our city are safe with me; never through me / Shall you be overcome.