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Euskal Idazleen Elkartea

Igor Estankona Bilbao > Extracts


1998, 2000 | Susa



The feeling seemed to come from the water's surface,
and the age of the plants doubled.
They cleaned each other's faces with mucky hands.
The two
were running
towards the single light bulb still on.
He put a finger
in her mouth
to seek the gap we all need
to reach the people that surround us.
It seemed to be made of the moistest material.
He sat and opened her legs like a hungry theatre,
like a gift come through the post,
and falling on the sofa they became as children
and there
they wrote life with italic saliva
and there
with his head on her smooth belly
he finally understood why
the large cetaceans
come to beaches to die.


Lie down and listen
leave death's alabaster in your eyes, leave it in mine
as kidnapped children are left
in the moon's pools.


Quartz birds
on the hands of time,
since time immemorial,
for ever,
quartz birds
making an apologia of time.
Quartz birds
and their monotonous song,
in an unending tactic
as if safeguarding a dictatorship.

Audaces fortuna juvat

They're going to bring a new religion
but we won't accept it.
Democratisation will begin
with the help of the heaviest bombers.
They will put two lead almonds
in the hearts of our sons and daughters.
They will push us into the cold.
They will rape us in the name of love.
Who knows, when perhaps
the torture becomes unbearable,
I'll be the first traitor
and I'll denounce
all the beds of our rearguard.
The empire will reward me
if I tell them I want to be
in the firing squad of long ago brothers and sisters.
It'll be late to speak
of coherence or ideals of justice.
I shall look you all in the eyes
a century before shooting.

TUNDRA (2002)


There are no clouds today, we're in for a clear night,
it's seldom like that, it almost makes you afraid.
Something exploding could be the solution.
In this peace the shadows rise up
and caress my face,
as if they had never seen the likes of us.
You wouldn't sleep a wink
if you knew what I was thinking about.
I approach you slowly, I approach you on one foot,
I want to go back in time
to touch your skin as yet unborn
with these two fossil hands.
I would renounce our present in order to see how you are going to die.
My hand is as broad as a meadow,
your dreams slip across it;
mine are here awaiting the collision,
tell me the purpose of your nervous laugh.
Tell me whether you intend to stay
in the hole you will make inside me.


You see the evening being woven from the sky's seam,
because the world can no longer support
a weary, defeated sun.
You, too, are a lion whose rear legs collapse.
I know your silent story,
like an unstrung piano you told me
how your mother bore you in captivity.
But that weariness is new,
your mouth betrays the tremble of someone about to kneel,
and although I know kneeling is not falling,
I know your silent story
and it doesn't end like that.
Sleep on. I will stroke your hair through the longest night.
In the morning, after the frost has hardened,
you will be a sword of twice smelted metal
in my hands.


Two eyes told a heart
that the tears that fell
were so far from each other
that the green dragonflies approached
and drank them.

And two eyes told a heart
that the tears that fell
were so far from each other
that they seemed
mere drops
rather than tears,
running down a leaf
unaware of the rain.


When we are asleep in bed
a night bee makes honey for us
from the very gorse that tears our hearts.
Indeed, life is not all,
neither the most important thing at times,
look at how many things decide
not to exist and there's no more to be said.


Maybe not now,
maybe not this year,
maybe not for a while,
but one day
you will all kneel down
as I do.
You won't be afraid of anyone,
You won't be forced by anyone,
Your voice will be clear
right down inside.

Maybe not now,
maybe not this year,
maybe not for a while,
but one day
you will cry
as I do.
You will be happy,
as you shout, "Forgive us!"
as loudly as I do
right down inside.

Maybe not now,
maybe not this year,
but one day for sure
you will shout, "Forgive us!"
and maybe you won't be forgiven.

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