Basque Poetry.

I.—Pastorales.

Now, as to (1), the effect is not unpleasing; the boy-lady or the boy-angel is often one of the most successful actors, and makes an excellent substitute for the real lady. There is no coarseness in his acting; on the contrary, there is a certain reserve of movement caused by the unwonted dress, which looks like a pleasing modesty, and makes the boy appear really lady-like. His get-up is generally unexceptionable.

We have once only had an opportunity of seeing a girl’s Pastorale, “Ste. Helène,” at Garindein, in April of the present year, 1879. Unfortunately it was interrupted, almost as soon as commenced, by violent rain. The costumes were very modest and pretty. The heroines of the piece wore blue or scarlet-jackets, with long white skirts; the lady-heroes had shorter skirts and white unmentionables. The Pastorale of “Ste. Helène” has nothing to do with the mother of Constantine the Great, or with the Invention of the Cross. It is an olla podrida of old legends. The opening scene is taken from “The King who wished to marry his own daughter” (see above, p. 165.) A King Antoina wishes to marry his daughter Helène, and for that purpose procures a dispensation from the Pope, who appears on the scene, attended by an angel. Helène, however, still refuses, and escapes; she embarks for England, but the captain of the vessel falls outrageously in love with her (cf. “Juan Dekos,” p. 148). A shipwreck saves her from his persecutions; she lands alone in England, is seen by Henry, King of England, who falls in love with her and forthwith marries her, in spite of his mother’s objections. He is forced to go to the wars; Helène gives birth to twin boys, but the queen-mother changes the letter, and sends word to the King that she is confined of two puppies (cf. “The singing tree, the bird which tells the truth, and the water that makes young,” p. 177). Ste. Helène is condemned to death; Clarice, her maid, offers to die in her stead, but both escape; the boys, who were supposed to have been murdered, at last reappear, and all ends happily as in the legends. The part of the “Satans” was taken by three middle-aged men, in buff breeches and white stockings, who danced very well. The preliminary procession on horseback, and the opening scene on the stage, were exceedingly pretty.

Now, when we add that many of the actors in these Pastorales cannot—scarcely any could before the present generation—read or write; that the Pastorales extend from three to seven thousand lines, distributed in ballad verses of four lines each, the second and fourth rhyming; and that the representations last from six to eight hours, our readers may imagine the amount of serious preparation required where every sentence has to be learned by heart from repetition of a reader or reciter. Consequently, to get up a Pastorale, a whole winter is not too long. The task is generally performed at home in the actor’s family, or in a house where two or three meet together for the study, if neighbours. We have seen some pleasing instances of the pride the whole family take in the success of the actor. Asking once a pretty boy where he could have learnt to play his part of lady in so very ladylike a manner, he answered, “From my father and my mother in the winter.” At another time we had as companion in a long day’s walk a man upwards of sixty, who had been a “Satan” in his youth. He explained how very trying it is both to dance well and to sing at the same time so as to be clearly heard. His father had been a “Satan” before him, and had trained him for the occasion, and had made him eat two raw eggs before commencing. He spoke of the joy of the whole family when his performance was successful, though he lost his voice for several days afterwards. To show what his former agility must have been, he cleared every fence and obstacle in our path gallantly, despite his sixty years. These Pastorales are seldom, if ever, acted as a money speculation, but during the acting of them one or two young men, accompanied by a pretty girl, make the round of the spectators, offering a glass of wine, in quasi-payment for which you are expected to place a coin in the plate which the maiden carries. The amount collected is seldom much beyond what is required for the necessary expenses; more often it is below, but if anything remains it is spent on a grand feast to all the actors. The number of Pastorales in existence is variously stated at from seventy to two hundred. The former number we believe to be the nearer to the fact. The names of those best known are as follows:—

From the Bible and Hagiology.

Abraham, avec Sara and Agar Josué de Moïse Nabuchodonosor S. Pierre S. Jacques S. Jean Baptiste S. Louis S. Alexis S. Roch S. Claudieus et Ste. Marsimissa Ste. Engrace Ste. Helène, or Elaine Ste. Geneviève Les Trois Martyrs Ste. Agnes Ste. Catherine Ste. Marguerite La Destruction de Jerusalem

Classical.

Bacchus Alexandre

Chansons de Geste, etc.

Clovis

Mustafa, le Grand Turc

Astiaga

Charlemagne

Thibaut

Godefroi de Bouillon et la Deliverance de Jerusalem

Marie de Navarre

Roland

Les Douze Pairs de France

Les Quatre Fils Aymon

Geneviève de Brabant

Jeanne d’Arc

Jean Caillabit

La Princesse de Gamatie

Jean de Paris

Modern.

Napoleon— (1) Le Consulat

(2) L’Empire

(3) Ste. Helène

The Eternal Father, who speaks chiefly in Latin quotations from the Vulgate, and always from behind the scenes, i.e., the suspended sheets mentioned above.

Three Angels—Michael, Raphael, Gabriel—all of whom mingle quotations from the Vulgate with their Basque.

Abraham, Sara, Agar, Isaac, and Ismael.

Lot, and Uxor (sic) Lot’s wife.

Tina and Mina, Lot’s daughters.

Salamiel and Nahason, shepherds of Abraham.

Sylva and Milla, shepherds of Lot.

Melchisedec.

Escol, a companion of Abraham.

All these names are from the Vulgate. Raphel (Amraphel) Kings of the Turks (Turcac).

Arioch

Thadal

Chodorlaomor

Sennaab Good Kings.

Bara

Bersa

Semeber

Bala

Pharaon, King of Egypt.

Corion and Gober, Pharaon’s courtiers.

Astaroch Good Soldiers, defenders of the Holy Religion.

Telemar

Cormaim

Zuzite

Chavoq and Chorre, good giants, killed by the Turkish kings.

Cocor, Patar; Maneton, and Catilie, inhabitants of Sodom. The last two are ladies. Maneton is a diminutive from Marie—Manon, Manette, Maneton; like Jeannette, Jeanneton, from Jeanne.

“Satans”—Satan and Bulgifer—who swear most frightfully in French, on the principle, perhaps, of omne ignotum pro magnifico, and because swearing, while more terrible, is less mischievous when uttered in a tongue “not understanded of the people.”

Abraham is the model of a Christian, and Abraham and Pharaon both address their followers as “barons.” Satan flatteringly addresses the shepherds by the Spanish title “Caballeros” when he wants to lead them into mischief. The actors are by no means so numerous as the “rôles”; one takes several successive parts, often without change of dress, a custom which heightens not a little the difficulty of following an acted Pastorale.

There is more dramatic unity in “Abraham,” and the main plot is more skilfully conducted than might be expected from its title. The key-note of the action is given at once when Satan and Bulgifer appear on horseback in the “Place” in front of the stage, and announce their project of “tormenting Abraham,” and of “weakening the Christian Faith.” The plot then follows pretty closely the Bible narrative. Only it is Satan and Bulgifer who are the authors of all Abraham’s misfortunes and vexations; although the angels constantly appear to save him when matters are at their worst. It is the “Satans” who inflame Pharaon in Egypt with the report and sight of Sara’s beauty; it is they who stir up strife between Abraham’s and Lot’s herdsmen; they are delighted with the wickedness of the inhabitants of Sodom, which they direct to suit their own purposes; they stir up war against Abraham and Lot in the persons of the Turkish kings with Biblical names. These at first conquer Lot, and one by one slay all his partisans, including the good giants Chavoq and Chorre, whose corpses are carried off by Satan to be feasted upon, with the licorish exclamation: “O what cutlets! what a fine leg!!” Then they tempt Agar, and make her quarrel with Sara. In the scene preceding the destruction of Sodom, although the angels are present, the inhabitants round Lot’s door are blinded, not by them, but “by some magician.” Lot’s wife, Uxor, when to be changed into a pillar of salt, ingeniously falls under the stage, and there the transformation takes place unseen. When Isaac is born, he is forthwith baptised. Agar and Ismael are driven into the desert, and are saved by the angel Gabriel. The play then gradually works up to the climax, the sacrifice of Isaac—the last and terrible temptation—in which the “Satans” tempt the “two Christians,” Abraham and Isaac, to unbelief and disobedience, and are foiled as ever. After this, the action languishes, Abraham dies, and the Pastorale comes to an end. All the actors appear on the stage and chant the De Profundis, then the angels sing, and all unite in a concluding chant. We give a few verses from the scene of the sacrifice as a specimen of the whole:—

Satan and Bulgifer; Abraham and Isaac.

Satan.

Abraham, art thou ignorant?

What art thou thinking of?

Leave him in life;

Thou hast some wise hairs.

I tell thee to return

To the house with the child;

And there you shall live

With very great joy.

Abraham.

Ah! alas! wretched torment!

Always thus on this earth

Satan doth vex me

In all my doings.

Nevertheless, I take courage;

Yes, even now

To slay Isaac

I am ready on the instant.

He has given me the order,

The good God Himself,

That I sacrifice Isaac

On this mountain myself.

Bulgifer.

He who gave you this order

Was not God. No!

Go off to your house,

And take your young son.

Abraham.

My only son Isaac,

If I sacrifice him,

All of my race

I quickly destroy.

The good God had told me

That he would marry;

But if he dies now,

How can that be?

I trust, nevertheless,

On our Lord God;

I am willing to offer to Him,

To Him alone, my son.

At last Satan and Bulgifer go off, exclaiming:—

O, you accursed one!

You always overcome us;

To confusion always

You do put us.

But, if we no more tempt you,

We will tempt some one else;

And we will even take down

To hell some soul.

In despair we depart

For ever from thee;

And we leave you now

In a very sad case.

After a few words between father and son, Isaac then offers himself, and prays as follows:—

People, I pray you, look

On this poor innocent child;

I am about to leave the world,

And have done harm to none. (Music.)

O Lord! our Saviour!

Unjustly crucified!

Lord, I must also

Soon leave this world. (Music.)

O King of Heaven!

Who art powerful

Above all other,

Wise and triumphant. (Music.)

I ask pardon of Thee

For all my sins,

Wherewith I oft have offended

Thee from my birth.

He binds himself, and goes on:—

All those, O Lord!

Blot from remembrance;

To Thy glory, I pray,

Receive me immediately.

King of the Angels,

Prince of the Heaven,

May’st Thou grant me,

I pray Thee, Thy rest.

I ask Thee pardon

From my whole heart;

Succour me, O Lord!

With Thy holy hand.

I have not enough wit

To thank Thee therewith;

But if to Heaven I should go,

There will I praise Thee.

O Lord! I pray Thee, have pity!

Thou shouldest grant it me;

For to leave this world

I am determined.

Angel of the Lord,

Grant me strength,

Since Thou art

My Guide!

Lord, I commend

To Thee my spirit;

It is Thou Who first

Hast created me.

And O! great God! I pray,

If it be Thy will,

In the repose of the blessed

Place my soul.

Father,—whenever You will,—

Sacrifice me now;—

To find my God

I would depart.

Abraham is in the act of sacrificing when the Angel Gabriel seizes him from behind, and bids him not do it, &c., &c. Any foreigner who, unless he has a most charming interpreter or interpretress, can sit out a whole Pastorale would surely deserve the first prize in the school of patience.

The other kind of dramatic performance is much more irregular, and may assume various forms according to the circumstances which give occasion to it. It may be only a wild kind of carnival procession, the Mascarade, where each gesticulates as the character he represents; or a charivari in honour (?) of a dotard’s marriage, wherein the advantages of celibacy over married life are sarcastically set forth; or it may take the form of a really witty impromptu comedy played on a tiny stage in honour of the marriage or the good fortune of the most popular persons of the village. One of the first kind is excellently described in Chaho’s “Biarritz, entre les Pyréneés et l’Océan,” vol. ii. pp. 84–121, to which we refer the reader. One of the last kind was acted at Louhossoa about 1866, on the double occasion of some marriages, and of the return of some young men from South America. There were three actors; the piece was witty and well played, and seemed to give the greatest satisfaction to the audience.

II.

The historical songs, like all other historical remains among the Basques, are few and doubtful. There are two songs, however, for which are claimed a greater historical importance and a higher antiquity than any others can pretend to. These are the so-called “Leloaren Cantua” and the “Altabiskarco Cantua.” Both these are reputed by some writers to be almost contemporaneous with the events which they relate. The first is said to be founded on the wars of the Roman Emperor Augustus with the Cantabri; the second is an account of the defeat of Charlemagne’s rearguard at Roncesvalles, A.D. 778. The former may be some three hundred years old, but the latter is certainly a production of the nineteenth century, though none the less it is the most spirited offspring of the Basque muse. We will give the text and translation of each, and then justify our conclusions.

Leloaren Cantua.

1.

lelo. yl lelo;

lelo. yl lelo;

il leloa.

2.

Romaco armac

aleguin eta

Vizcayac daroa

Zanzoa.

3.

Octabiano

munduco jauna

le coby di10

Vizcayocoa.

4.

Ichasotati

eta leorres

y mini deusco

molsoa.

5.

leor celayac

bereac dira

menditan tayac

leusoac.

6.

lecu yronyan

gagozanyan

nocbera sendo

daugogoa.

7.

bildurric guichi

armabardinas

oramayasu

guexoa.

8.

Soyacgogorrac

badyri tuys

narrubiloxa

surboa.

9.

bost urteco

egun gabean

gueldi bagaric

pochoa.

10.

gurecobata

ylbadaguyan

bost amarren

galdoa.

11.

aecanista

gue guichitaya

asqugudugu

lalboa.

12.

gueurelurrean

ta aen errian

biroch ainbaten

zamoa.

13.

Ecin gueyago

(The rest of this verse is lost through a rent in the paper.)

14.

tiber lecua

gueldico zabal

Uchin tamayo

grandoya.

15.

(Torn.)

16.

andiaristac

gueisto syndoas

beticonayas

narraca.

Song of Lelo.

1.

Lelo, dead (is) Lelo;

Lelo, dead (is) Lelo;

Lelo, Zara (?)10

Killed Lelo.

2.

The arms of Rome

do all they can, and

Biscay raises

The song of war.

3.

Octavianus,

Of the world lord,

Lecobidi (?)10

of Biscay.

4.

By sea

and by land

he has placed us

the siege.

5.

The dry plains

are theirs;

the high mountains,

the caverns (are ours).

6.

In favourable ground

when we are,

each one firm

has heart (?)

7.

Little fear

(with) equal arms,

(but) our kneading-trough

(goes) ill.

8.

Hard corselets

wear they;

Bare body;

(more) agility (?)

9.

For five years,

by day, by night,

without ceasing,

(lasts) the siege (?)

10.

One of ours

when he is dead,

five tens

they lose (?)

11.

They many and

we few (?)

at last we have made

the peace.

12.

In our land

and in his village

are tied in the same way

the loads (of wood).

13.

(It is) impossible more.

14.

Tiber the place

remains broad (?)

Uchin Tamayo (?)

very large.

16.

The great oaks

yield

to the constant strokes

(of) the woodpecker.

Finished is the glory! dead is the glory,

Our glory!

Old age has killed the glory,

Our glory!

Fortunately, we shall be able to speak with much more decision of the “Altabiskarco Cantua,” of which the following is the latest text:—

Altabiskarco Cantua.

1.

Oyhu bat aditua izan da

Escualdunen mendien artetic,

Eta etcheco jaunac, bere athearen aitcinean chutic

Ideki tu beharriac, eta erran du: “Nor da hor? Cer nahi dautet?”

Eta chacurra, bere nausiaren oinetan lo zagüena,

Altchatu da, eta karrasiz Altabiscarren inguruac bethe ditu.

2.

Ibañetaren lepoan harabotz bat aghertcen da,

Urbiltcen da, arrokac ezker eta ezcuin jotcen dituelaric;

Hori da urrundic heldu den armada baten burrumba.

Mendien copetetaric guriec errespuesta eman diote;

Beren tuten soinua adiaraci dute,

Eta etcheco jaunac bere dardac zorrozten tu.

3.

Heldu dira! heldu dira! cer lantzazco sasia!

Nola cer nahi colorezco banderac heien erdian aghertcen diren

Cer simistac atheratcen diren heien armetaric!

Cembat dira? Haurra condatzic onghi!

Bat, biga, hirur, laur, bortz, sei, zazpi, zortzi, bederatzi, hamar, hameca, hamabi,

Hamahirur, hamalaur, hamabortz, hamasei, hamazazpi, hemezortzi, hemeretzi, hogoi.

4.

Hogoi eta milaca oraino!

Heien condatcea demboraren galtcea liteque.

Urbilditzagun gure beso zailac, errotic athera ditzagun arroca horiec,

Botha ditzagun mendiaren patarra behera

Hein buruen gaineraino;

Leher ditzagun, herioz jo ditzagun.

5.

Cer nahi zuten gure mendietaric Norteco guizon horiec?

Certaco jin dira gure bakearen nahastera?

Jaungoicoac mendiac eguin dituenean nahi izan du hec guizonec ez pasatcea.

Bainan arrokac biribilcolica erortcen dira, tropac lehertcen dituzte.

Odola churrutan badoa, haraghi puscac dardaran daude.

Oh! cembat hezur carrascatuac! cer odolezco itsasoa!

6.

Escapa! escapa! indar eta zaldi dituzeneac!

Escapa hadi, Carlomano erreghe, hire luma beltzekin eta hire capa gorriarekin;

Hire iloba maitea, Errolan zangarra, hantchet hila dago;

Bere zangartasuna beretaco ez tu izan.

Eta orai, Escualdunac, utz ditzagun arroca horiec,

Jauts ghiten fite, igor ditzagun gure dardac escapatcen direnen contra.

7.

Badoazi! badoazi! non da bada lantzazco sasi hura?

Non dira heien erdian agheri ciren cer nahi colorezco bandera hec?

Ez da gheiago simiztarik atheratcen heien arma odolez bethetaric.

Cembat dira? Haurra, condatzac onghi.

Hogoi, hemeretzi, hemezortzi, hamazazpi, hamasei, hamabortz, hamalaur, hamairur,

Hamabi, hameca, hamar, bederatzi, zortzi, zazpi, sei, bortz, laur, hirur biga, bat.

8.

Bat! ez da bihiric aghertcen gheiago. Akhabo da!

Etcheco jauna, joaiten ahal zira zure chacurrarekin,

Zure emaztearen eta zure haurren besarcatcera,

Zure darden garbitcera eta alchatcera zure tutekin,

Eta ghero heien gainean etzatera eta lo gitera.

Gabaz, arranoac joainen dira haraghi pusca lehertu horien jatera,

Eta hezur horiec oro churituco dira eternitatean.

Song of Altabiscar.

1.

A cry is heard

From the Basque mountain’s midst.

Listens, and cries, “What want they? Who goes there?”

At his lord’s feet the dog that sleeping lay

2.

Through Ibañeta’s14 pass the noise resounds,

Striking the rocks on right and left it comes;

’Tis the dull murmur of a host from far,

From off the mountain heights our men reply,

Sounding aloud the signal of their horns;

Etcheco Jauna whets his arrows then.

3.

They come! They come! See, what a wood of spears

What flags of myriad tints float in the midst!

What lightning-flashes glance from off their arms!

How many be they? Count them well, my child.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12,

13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20.

4.

Twenty, and thousands more!

’Twere but lost time to count.

Our sinewy arms unite, tear up the rocks,

Swift from the mountain tops we hurl them down

Right on their heads,

And crush, and slay them all.

5.

What would they in our hills, these Northern men?

Why come they here our quiet to disturb?

God made the hills intending none should pass.

Down fall the rolling rocks, the troops they crush!

Streams the red blood! Quivers the mangled flesh!

Oh! what a sea of blood! What shattered bones!

6.

Fly, to whom strength remaineth and a horse!

Fly, Carloman, red cloak and raven plumes!

Lies thy stout nephew, Roland, stark in death;

For him his brilliant courage naught avails.

And, now, ye Basques, leaving awhile these rocks,

Down on the flying foe your arrows shower!

7.

They run! They run! Where now that wood of spears?

Where the gay flags that flaunted in their midst?

Rays from their bloodstained arms no longer flash!

How many are they? Count them well, my child.

20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13,

12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

8.

One! There is left not one. ’Tis o’er!

Etcheco Jauna home with thy dog retire.

Embrace thy wife and child,

Thine arrows clean, and stow them with thine horn;

And then, lie down and sleep thereon.

And to eternity those bones shall bleach.

(This translation is due to the kindness of a friend.)

“Antoine d’Abbadie,

“London, Jan. 31, 1859.” Correspond. de l’Institut de France.

In the next number M. Fr. Michel writes, “henceforth I will believe that the songs called Abarcaren Cantua and Altabiscarraco Cantua are forgeries”; this testimony is decisive. It has often been repeated by M. d’Abbadie, with the additional assurance that he knows not only the house, but the very room in which the song was first composed. That the language is modern and indifferent Basque is very evident in the text given by M. Fr. Michel in “Le Pays Basque, Paris, 1857.” That above, taken from the “Cancionero Vasco” of the present year, is considerably corrected and improved. All attempts, and many efforts have been made, to force these irregular lines into any known form of Basque rhythm have hitherto signally failed. For the amusement of some of our readers we give below a list of the more evident foreign words in this and in the “Leloaren Cantua.” The relative antiquity will thus be seen at a glance:—

L, Latin; S, Spanish; F, French; G, German words.

Song of Lelo.

Romako Roma L

Armac arma L

Octabiano Octavianus L

Munduco mundus L

Lecu (?) locus L

Tiber Tiber L

Grandoya grandis L

grandioso S

With reference to the above list we may observe that the Basque never begins a word with r, but always prefixes a euphonic er, ar, ir; hence er-respuesta, ar-roca, Er-rolan, er-rege, hir-risko, risque, F. In later copies editors have altered “Romaco,” in the “Song of Lelo,” into “Er-romaco,” to give it more of a Basque look. Aren, or aen, eco-aco-co are case terminations; tcea-cea marks the verbal noun. Carlomann was never the name of Charlemagne, but of his brother and his uncle. Er-rolan is evidently from the French Roland; neither from the Hruotlandus of Einhardus, nor from the Spanish Roldan. Defenders of the authenticity of the piece allege that these words are only corruptions, introduced in the course of ages; but our readers can judge for themselves how far they enter into the very structure of the composition.

Most of the Basque songs, except the drinking ones, are set, more or less, in a minor key. The majority of the love songs would have been described by our forefathers as “complaints.” One of the prettiest, both in words and music, is the fragment entitled “The Hermitage of St. Joseph”:—

1.

Chorittua, nurat hua

Bi hegalez airian?

Españalat juaiteko

Elhürra dük borthian:

Juanen gütük alkharreki

Hura hurtü denian.

2.

San-Josefan ermita

Desertian gora da;

Españalat juaitian.

Han da ene phausada;

Guibelilat so’ gin eta

Hasperena ardüra!

3.

Hasperena, habilua

Maitenaren borthala:

Habil, eta erran izok

Nik igorten haidala;

Bihotzian sar hakio

Hura eni bezala.

1.

Little bird, where goest thou

On thy two wings in the air?

To Spain to go,

The snow is on the passes:

We will go together

When the snow is melted.

2.

The Hermitage of Saint Joseph

Is high in the desert

In going to Spain.

There is my resting-place,

There have I looked behind, and

The sigh is frequent.

3.

Sigh, go

To the door of my beloved.

Go, and tell her

It is I who send you:

Enter into her heart,

The songs of the Agots, or Cagots, those Pariahs of the Pyrénées, who dwelt apart shunned and despised by all, are, as might be expected, uniformly sad. The misery of the labourer’s lot, and even of that of the contrabandista, is more frequently dwelt upon than the compensations to the poverty of the one, or the transient gleams of good fortune of the other. At least, such is the case in all those which are really songs of the people. In these there are not many delights of “life under the greenwood tree,” as in Robin Hood, or our factitious gipsies’ songs. The forest is an object of dread to the Basque poet, and it requires courage and all the powerful attraction of a loved one to induce him to traverse by night its gloomy shades; but then—

Mortu, oihan illuna Deusere ez da neretzat. Deserts and forests dark They are then nought to me.

1.

—Argi askorrian jinik ene arresekila,

Bethi beha entzün nahiz numbaitik zure botza;

Ardiak nun ützi tüzü? Zerentako errada

Nigarrez ikhusten deizüt zure begi ederra?

2.

—Ene aitaren ichilik jin nüzü zure gana,

Bihotza erdiratürik, zihauri erraitera,

Khambiatü deitadala ardien alhagia,

Sekülakoz defendatü zureki minzatzia.

3.

—Gor niza, ala entzün düt? erran deitadazia?

Sekülakoz jin zaiztala adio erraitera?

Etziradia orhitzen gük hitz eman dügüla

Lürrian bizi gireno alkharren maithtzia?

4.

—Atzo nurbait izan düzü ene ait’ ametara,

Gük alkhar maite dügüla haien abertitzera;

Hürüntaaztez alkhar ganik fite ditin lehia

Eta eztitian jünta kasta Agotarekila.

5.

—Agotak badiadila badizüt entzütia;

Zük erraiten deitadazüt ni ere banizala:

Egündano ükhen banü demendren leiñhüria

Enündüzün ausartüren begila so’ gitera.

6.

—Jentetan den ederrena ümen düzü Agota:

Bilho holli, larrü churi eta begi ñabarra.

Nik ikhusi artzaiñetan zü zira ederrena:

Eder izateko aments Agot izan behar da?

7.

—So’ izü nuntik ezagützen dien zuiñ den Agota:

Lehen sua egiten zaio hari beharriala;

Bata handiago dizü, eta aldiz bestia

Biribil et’ orotarik bilhoz üngüratia.

8.

—Hori hala balimbada haietarik etzira,

Ezi zure beharriak alkhar üdüri dira.

Agot denak chipiago badü beharri bata,

Aitari erranen diot biak bardin tuzüla.

9.

—Agot denak bürüa aphal, eta dizü begia

Lürrean bethi sarturik gaizki egüinak bezala.

Izan banintz ni aberatz zü zira din bezala,

Aitak etzeyzün erranen ni Agobat nizala.

1.

Since daybreak arrived here with my flock,

Always listening, wishing to hear somewhere thy voice.

Where have you left the sheep? Whence is it

I see your beautiful eye full of tears?

2.

Unknown to my father I have come towards you,

Heart-broken, to tell you yourself

That he has changed for me the sheep-pasture,

Forbidden me for ever speaking with you.

3.

Am I deaf, or have I heard it? Did you say it?

That you are come to bid farewell for ever?

Do you not remember that we have given our word

To love each other as long as we live upon the earth?

4.

Yesterday some one came to my father and mother

To warn them that we loved each other;

That they should hasten at once to separate us from each other,

And that they should not ally themselves with the Agots’ caste.

5.

That there are Agots I have heard tell;

You tell me, too, that I am of them!

If I had ever had only the shadow of them,

I had not had the boldness to lift my eyes to you.

6.

Of all men, they say, the Agot is the handsomest;

Fair hair, white skin, and blue eye.

Of the shepherds I have seen you are the handsomest:

In order to be handsome, must one be an Agot?

7.

It is by this one recognises who is an Agot—

One gives the first glance at his ear;

He has one too large, and, as for the other,

8.

If that is so, you are not of those folk;

For your ears resemble each other perfectly.

If he who is Agot has one of his ears smaller,

I will tell my father you have the two alike.

9.

The Agot walks with his head low, and his eye

Is fixed on the earth like a criminal.

If I had been rich, like you,

Your father would not have said that I was Agot.

The Lost Dowry.

1.

My father has given me my dowry,

Mine, mine, mine;

A sow with pigs ten,

Her chicks with the hen,

And of onions a rope to stow by.

2.

But the wolf has devoured my sow,

Mine, mine, mine;

My chickens are killed by the cats,

My onions are gnawn by the rats;

Good-bye to my dowry now.

More literally:—

1.

My father has given me the dowry,

Mine, mine, mine;

A sow with her little pigs,

A brood hen with her chickens,

A cord of onions with them.

2.

The wolf has eaten my sow,

Mine, mine, mine;

The fox my brood hen,

The rats my cord of onions,

Good-bye, my dowry.

Artzain Dohatsua.

1.

Etchola bat da ene jauregia

Aldean, salhatzal, hariztegia;

Arthalde bat

Halakorik ez baita hambat,

Bazait niri behar besembat.

Ai! etzait itsusi!

Ni naiz etchola huntako nausi

2.

Goiz-arratsak bethi deskantsu ditut,

Deuseren beldurrik nihondik ez dut;

Hemen nago,

Erregue baino fierrago.

Nik zer behar dut gehiago?

Ha! ez da itsusi!

Etchola huntan Piarrez nausi.

3.

Goizetan jaikirik argialdera,

Igortzen ditut ardiak larrera;

Eta gero

Itzalpean jarririk nago,

Nor da ni baino urusago?

Ez! etzait itsusi!

Ni naiz arthalde huntako nausi.

4.

Aitoren semeak gasteluetan,

Bihotzak ilhunik daude goguetan.

Alegera

Nik ez dut dembora sobera.

Ai! etzait itsusi!

Etcholan nor da ni baizen nausi.

5.

Jan onegiak barnea betherik,

Aberatsak nihoiz ez du goserik;

Eta bethi

Ene trempuaz da bekhaizti;

Diruz ez baitaite erosi.

Ha! ez da itsusi!

Etchola gasteluaren nausi.

6.

Noizbait Jaunari nik dainu egunik,

Igortzen banindu aberasturik;

Zorigaitzez

Hesturik nindauke bihotzez,

Ene etchola hemen minez.

Jauna! ba ha niri!

Utz nezazu etcholako nausi.

The Happy Shepherd.

1.

A cottage my castle is,

By the side of willows, wood, and oak copse;

A flock

Such as mine is of no great worth,

Yet it is all I need.

Ah! my lot is not so bad!

I am master of this little house.

2.

Tranquil I live by night and day,

Of aught from no quarter afraid am I;

Here dwell

No king more proud.

What need I more?

Ha! it is not so bad!

Peter is master in this little house.

3.

Almost at daybreak each morn I rise,

My sheep I drive to the pastures;

And then

’Neath the shade reclined I pass the day.

Where is there one more happy than I?

No! my lot is not so bad!

I of my flock the master am.

4.

The sons of the nobles in the castles,

Their hearts are black, their thoughts dull.

Joyful

(Always am I; to be sad)

I have not time enough for that.

Ah! my lot is not so bad!

In the cottage of which I the master am.

5.

Eating too much, and ever full,

The rich they never feel hunger;

Yet always

My rude good health they envy;

With money they cannot purchase that.

Ha! it is not so bad!

The cottage the lord of the castle is.

6.

Once on a time I grieved the Lord,

Sending me full of riches;

Of sorrow

Full then was I at heart,

My little house here suffering.

Lord! spare me!

Leave me the master of my little house.

A pretty cradle song, “Lo! Lo! ene Maitea” (“Sleep! Sleep! my Darling”), by M. Larralde, a physician of St. Jean de Luz, won the prize at Urrugne in 1859. It is written to a tune composed by the Vicomte de Belzunce; the words have been printed in the “Lettres Labourdines,” par H. L. Fabre (Bayonne, 1869).

1. Lo! Lo! nere maitea! Lo! ni naiz zurekin! Lo! Lo! paregabea! Nigarrik ez-eghin; Goizegui da! Munduko Gelditzen bazira, Nigarretan urtzeco Baduzu dembora. 2. Lo! nik zaitut higitzen, Lo! Lo! nombait goza. Es duzuya ezagutzen Amattoren boza? Exai guzietaric Zure begiratzen Bertze lanak utzirik. Egonen naiz hemen. 3. Lo! Lo! nere aingerua! Bainan amexetan, Dabilkasu burua; Hirria ezpainetan; Norekin othe zare? Non othe zabiltza? Ez urrun ama-gabe Gan ene bihotza. 4. Lo! Lo! zeruetarat Airatu bazare, Ez bihar zu lurrerat Ardiexi-gabe Ungi zure altchatzeko Enetzat gracia; Guciz eni hortako Zait ezti bizia! 5. Lo! Lo! gauak oraindik, Nombait du eguna; Ez da nihon argirik Baizik izarrena. Izarrez! mintzazean Zutaz naiz orhoitzen; Zein guti, zure aldean Duten distiratzen! 6. Lo! Lo! dembora dela! Iduri zait albak Histen hari tuela Ekhi gabazkoak. Choriac arboletan Kantaz hasi dire; Laster nere besoetan Gochatuko zare. 7. Bainan atzarri zare Uso bat iduri. Una nik zembat lore(ac) Zuretzat ekharri! Ametsetan ait-amez Othe zare orhoitu? Ai! hirri maite batez Baietz erradazu! 1. Sleep! Sleep! my darling! Sleep! I am with thee! Sleep! Sleep! without peer! Shed no tears; It is too soon! Of the world, If thou seest long days, For tears thou wilt have Enough time. 2. Sleep! I am rocking thee, Sleep! Sleep! and be still. Dost thou not recognise Of thy mother the voice? From every foe To guard thee I quit all else. I am watching here. 3. Sleep! Sleep! my angel! But borne on the wings of a dream Thy spirit far away flies; A smile plays on thy lips; Who are with thee? Where dost thou wander? Not far without your mother Go my (dear) heart. 4. Sleep! Sleep! toward the heavens If thy spirit has flown, Do not to earth return Without having obtained To bring thee up well For me the favour; This duty is all That is life to me! 5. Sleep! Sleep! now it is night, The day is still distant; There is no other light Than that of the stars. The stars! At the word I am thinking of thee; And (I say) than thee A star is less bright. 6. Sleep! Sleep! while there is time! I see that the dawn Is making pale The stars of the night. The birds in the trees Their songs have begun; Soon on my bosom Thou wilt begin to play. 7. But thou art waking Like a sweet dove. See what flowers I have gathered for thee Tell me, in thy dream Didst thou think of me? Ah! what a dear smile Doth answer me, Yes!

The following belongs to a more quaint and popular class of lullaby, or cradle songs; as it is so simple we do not give the Basque:—

Artzain Zaharrac. 1. Tam, tam, tam, tam, Rapetanplan. Artzain zaharrac tafarnan. Hordi gira? Ez, ezgira. Basoak detzagun bira! Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho! Basoak detzagun bira! 2. Tam, tam, tam, tam, Rapetanplan. Nork joiten derauku borthan? Behabada Otsoa da! Nihor ez gaiten athera! Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho! Basoak detzagun bira! 3. Tam, tam, tam, tam, Rapetanplan. Uria hari karrikan. Gauden hemen, Arno hunen Gostu onean edaten. Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho! Gauden gostuan edaten! 4. Tam, tam, tam, tam, Rapetanplan. Babazuza tarrapatan! Dugun edan Hamarretan. Aberats gira gau huntan. Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho! Aberats gira gau hutan. 5. Tam, tam, tam, tam, Rapetanplan. Ez dut minik sabeletan! Nahi nuke Ehun urthe, Hola egon banindaite! Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho! Hola egon banindaite! 6. Tam, tam, tam, tam, Rapetanplan. Arnorik ez da boteilan! Ostalera, Ez ikhara, Arnoko bethi sos bada! Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho! Arnoko bethi sos bada! 7. Tam, tam, tam, tam, Rapetanplan. Zer othe dut beguietan? Non da bortha? Airatu da. Mahaya dantzan dabila! Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho! Mahaya dantzan dabila! 8. Tam, tam, tam, tam, Rapetanplan. Zangoak amor bidean! Hanketan min! Gaizo, Martin, Urkatsik ez dirok egin! Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho! Urkatsik ez dirok egin! 9. Tam, tam, tam, tam, Rapetanplan. Eri-tchar naiz hilzekotan. Sendo nintzan Aski edan; Izan banu gau hunetan, Iohoho! Iohoho! Iohoho! Aski edan gau hunetan! The Old Shepherds. 1. Tam, tam, tam, tam, Rapetanplan. The old shepherds (are) at the inn. Are we drunk? No, we are not. Long live the glass! Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho! Long live the glass! 2. Tam, tam, tam, tam, Rapetanplan. Who knocks at the door? Perhaps It’s the wolf! We won’t go to the door, not one (of us)! Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho! Long live the glass! 3. Tam, tam, tam, tam, Rapetanplan. The rain begins in the street. Let us stop the night here, This good wine To drink with pleasure. Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho! In the night to drink with pleasure! 4. Tam, tam, tam, tam, Rapetanplan. The hail comes rattling down! Let us drink For the tenth time. We are rich to-night. Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho! We are rich this night. 5. Tam, tam, tam, tam, Rapetanplan. I am so jolly inside! I wish (I could live) A hundred years, If I might remain like this! Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho! If I might remain like this! 6. Tam, tam, tam, tam, Rapetanplan. There’s no more wine in the bottle! Landlord, Don’t be afraid, There’s always money for wine! Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho! There’s always money for wine! 7. Tam, tam, tam, tam, Rapetanplan. What’s gone wrong with my eyes? Where’s the door? It has flown away. The table’s beginning to dance! Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho! The table’s beginning to dance! 8. Tam, tam, tam, tam, Rapetanplan. My feet won’t go straight on the road! I’m bad in my legs! To-morrow, Martin, You will not be able to walk at all! Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho! You will not be able to walk at all! 9. Tam, tam, tam, tam, Rapetanplan. I am very ill, I am like to die. I should have been cured Had I drunk enough; If I had but this night, Hohoho! Hohoho! Hohoho! Drunk enough this night!

It is not at all uncommon in a country where, within the space of some twenty miles, the traveller may hear at least four languages—French, Gascoun, Basque, and Spanish—to find two or more of these mixed in the same poem, and sometimes with a little Latin as well. This occurs frequently in the noëls, where the angel speaks in French or Latin, and the shepherds reply in Gascoun or Basque; also sometimes in the love songs, where the French or Spanish lover will try to soften the heart of a Basque maiden by compliments in French or Spanish, while she greatest tour de force of this kind we know, both as to language and rhyme, is the song given in Fr. Michel’s “Le Pays Basque,” p. 429. We quote the first verse only; but the song continues with twenty-eight successive Basque rhymes in “in,” and the last seven in “en.”

Latin. Sed libera nos a malo. Sit nomen Domini. Deliver us from evil. God’s holy Name be praised;

Spanish. Vamos á cantar un canto para diverti. Let’s sing a song, my friends, and a joyous clamour raise;

Basque. Jan dugunaz gueroz chahalki houneti For we of rare good meat have eaten to our fill,

Basque. Eta edan ardoa Juranzouneti. And the good wine of Jurançon

French. Chantons, chantons, mes chers amis, je suis content pardi! have drunken at our will. Then sing, friends, sing, i’faith, I’m right well pleased!

Gascoun. Trinquam d’aquest boun bi, Let’s hear the glasses ring,

Basque. Eta dezagun canta cantore berri. And our new song, my friends, let’s all together sing.

Fleet Street Printing Works, 52, Fleet Street, London, E.C.