Edurne

Like the wind, the rain and the thunder, she was born in the open air, in the shade of a walnut tree. With ferns they made her cradle, a moonbeam warmed her, and in the distance the sea rocked her. Sing, Edurne, sing, Edurne. That is your town. Sing, Nieves, sing, Nieves. That is your people. And she grew up seeing at her feet Tolosa, at once strong and beautiful like a birch trunk. Her red woolen bodice split the morning in two as her blue window opened. Sing, Edurne, sing, Edurne. Love has called you. Sing, Nieves, sing, Nieves. Love has called you. Your love enjoyed you for a short time, taken away tied up by men of metal. And they found behind the house, on the path to Amasa, her twenty broken years against a bramble. Sing, Edurne, sing, Edurne. They will bury you... Sing, Nieves, sing, Nieves. They will have buried you... Since then, even if the cold bites, the gate of the farmhouse remains wide open. In case fear doesn't eat warm food to shelter people who cannot see their sky and sea. Sing, Edurne, sing, Edurne. You have a big heart. Sing, Nieves, sing, Nieves. You have a big heart. Run wind, go and tell that story along the banks of the Oria and tell the people that where their children eat and sleep, they have food and shelter in Edurne's house. Sing, Edurne, sing, Edurne. You sing with the Basque Country. Sing, Nieves, sing, Nieves. The Basque people sing with you.