XIX

 

John maitia:

      Etxera nijoa. Agur egiteko

Idazten det. Egun sentian nere urontz-trena irtengo, ta

Urrun izango da zuk au artzerako.

Naiko laterri eder, ikusketa, erbestetar, opor eta jolas;

Etxera nijoa, neretarren gana, nik bezela pentsatu

Ta itz egiten dutenengana. Ulertuko al dezu

Agur esaten dizutela?

Biok ongi tinkatuta

Gure aberrien lurraldeetan,

Ezin nezakean, azken unean, eten-nai

Larritasunak dirala ta, gure oroitaldi

Zoriontsuak alperrik galdu.

Ez badegu sekulan geiago alkar ikusten,

Ziur egon zaitez il arte nere gogoan gordeko ditudala

Zure maitasuna, zure irriak,

Zure gozatasunak. Bañan— agur.

Mesedez, ez nazazu gorrotatu; eman deabruari bere merezia.

Kemen aldi aundikoa, auxe.

                                       Betikotz

                                                   sue.

 

 

 

XIX

Dear John: / I’m going home. I write to say / Good-bye. My boat-train leaves at break of day; / It will be gone when this is in your hands. / I’ve had enough of lovely foreign lands, / Sightseeing, strangers, holiday and play; / I’m going home to those who think the way / I think, and speak as I do. Will you try / To understand that this must be good-bye? / We are both rooted deeply in the soil / Of our own countries. But I could not spoil / Our happy memories with the stress and strain / Of parting, if we never meet again / Be sure I shall remember till I die / Your love, your laugh, your kindness. But—good-bye. / Please do not hate me; give the devil his due, / This is an act of courage. / Always / sue