Eguna hil da iadanik
Ilargia oharaurreko tristuraz
Agertu da. (Bis)

Gauaren edertasunak
Sasiak laztantzen ditu errekalaino
Mantu goxoaz,
Haizeak sagarrondoak
Astintzen ditu. (Bis)

Itzal fantasmagorikoak
Irudikatzen dituelarik,
Non hauetan pozaren altxorra
Bere tristurarengatik
Lortzen duen arlekin bat,
Aurkitzen da eserita,
Suaren ondoan,
Sagar batekin eskuetan.

Aiumeen Basotik
Datorren negar goxo bat
Entzun dezake.

Baina arlekin nekatuak
Nahiago du haizean ito
Eta mundu materialeko
Biktima baten zain egon,
Bere tokia okupa dezan.

Aiumeen basotik
Datorren emakume eder bat
Hurbiltzen zaio
Senda malkartsutik,
Beirazko errekak
Lagundurik,
Honek beharrezko duen jakinduria
Eman diolarik kondenatuari
Sinestarazteko.
WOOD OF SCREAMS (HARLEQUIN)
The day is dead already.
The moon appears
With the sadness of before going to bed.

The beauty of the night
Caresses the bushes until the river
With its tender cloak.
The wind shakes
The apple trees.

It forms
Spooky shadows,
Where the treasure
of happiness
Is achieved by the harlequin
through his sadness.
He sits down near it
With an apple in his hand.

He can hear
A sweat cry
Coming from the wood of screams.

But the tired harlequin
Prefers to drown in the wind
And be waiting for a victim
From the material world
In order to occupy his place.

A beautiful woman
Is approaching
From the wood of screams
Through the steep slope,
Assisted by the river of glasses,
Because it gives
The necessary wisdom
For the condemned
To believe.