Текст и перевод песни Glaukoma - Haritik Tiraka

Haritik Tiraka

Bakarrizketan, bizitzan betitik,
Tik tak, haritik tiraka iada badakik,
Laba dakarkit, mara mara zure arimara
Sumenditik, ene bihotzaren hilerritik.
Ez dago berririk, musak ez dabiltza herritik,
Etorrin autobusak aspaldi galdu dizkit nik.
Izaran erdin, rap². Izerditan blai,
Like Aranburu in derby.

Idazten kaladak x 2,
Hitzen atzetik gabiltza gauerdiz gauerdi.
Kontzertun aurretik beti kardi, nerbi,
Baino beti puntual like Ikurriña in San Fermin.
Beti berdin! Beti berpizten,
Eguzkia atera da with Bad Sound System.
Selektah, egun berri bat argiz pizten,
Ilunpetan ez dakigu etxera iristen.

Hor kanpoan euri gehiegi,
Ta hemen barrun ez dao ateri.
Eskerrak bazterrak nahasten dituztenak
Erosotasunaren sofan ez diren eseri.
Ta jarri eskela bat nere barruko min hauei,
Musika daukat buruan, night and day.
I sing what I think and I think what I say.
Aldare bat jartzekotan ez jarri nei.

Hitza lan eskerga, sorkuntzaren zerga,
Hezkuntza sistemak ulertzen ez duen jerga.
Ume baten arima daukan amaren berba,
Tarimara igo aurreko nerbioen juerga.
Musika zer da? Jolas bat da,
Atila y los Unos -en azken kanta.
Musika ez da David Guetta in Bata,
Musika da Humus: Mantxi ta Nata.

Hor kanpoan euri gehiegi...

Eskoletan ez digute bizitza erakutsi,
Haiengatik leudeke gure arimak biluzik,
Gure koadernoa hutsik. Kliperrari klik.

Bota! Oraindik ez gaudelako lokatzetan itota,
Fokoen argitik kanpo benetako protak.
Musu-truk egindako lanaz bustita gure notak,
Zuei esker dirau burujabetzaren errotak.
Zuek gabe ez rock, ez reggae ta ez fandango.
Gracias a vosotros dejé de bailar un tango.
Piromano: zu gabe hau ez da berdina izango.
Eskerrikasko Andu. Eskerrikasko Sambo

Haritik Tiraka

Burning lights, in our whole life,
Tick tack, by the hour haritik tiraka you stop,
I speak slowly, over and over your strong words
From the volcano, from my heart's graveyard.
There's no news, the muses aren't traveling through the town,
For a long time, buses have missed me.
In the middle of the stars, rap². With sweating blai,
Like Aranburu in derby.

Writing verses x 2,
We're after the words at midnight.
Before the concert, always fast, nervous,
But always on time like the Ikurriña in San Fermin.
Always the same! Always reviving,
Sun comes up with Bad Sound System.
Selector, a new day lights up the sky,
In the dark we don't know our way home.

Too much rain outside,
And here inside it doesn't come out.
Thank God for those who mix up the sides
Who don't sit on the couch of comfort.
And put an obituary on my inner pain,
I have music in my head, night and day.
I sing what I think and I think what I say.
If you're going to put an altar don't put me on it.

Words are hard work, a tax on creation,
An educational system that doesn't understand jargon.
A mother's words with the soul of a child,
Nervousness before going on stage.
What is music? It's a playground,
Atila y los Unos' last song.
Music is not David Guetta in Bata,
Music is Humus: Mantxi and Nata.

Too much rain outside...

In schools they don't teach us about life,
That's why our souls are bare,
Our notebooks are empty. Click on the clip.

Throw! Because we're not drowning in the mud,
The real stars outside the spotlight.
Our notes soaked with labor done for free,
Thanks to you the roots of independence live on.
Without you no rock, no reggae or fandango.
Thanks to you I stopped dancing the tango.
Pyromaniac: without you, this won't be the same.
Thanks Andu. Thanks Sambo