(Mikel Markez)
("Oroitzapenak oparitzen ditut", 1994)

Paris zaharreko kaleen umela nire eskua zure sakela ezin berotuz giroaren jela ezin zela bete sabela galde uxoei bestela. Trocadero-ko indar iturriak Sena ibaiko brisa bustiak latin auzoko taberna guztiak bet-betiak espagetiak arraza oro nahasiak Metroko jende hotzarekin ezin inolako harremanik egin txiro ta lapur abilekin berdin Pigale-erdin emagal izkin bihotz gabe eta ziztrin Egin genuen halere zer onik ez pentsa dena okerra zenik ez zegonean eguzki argirik ilargitik bai zuk ta bai nik jaso gendun maitasunik.

Mugginess in the streets of old Paris my hand in your pocket unable to warm up the iciness of the weather unable to fill up the stomach ask the pigeons otherwise. The power fountains of Trocadero the wet breeze of the Seine all the taverns in the Latin Quarter full to the hilt spaghetti all races mixed together With the cold people of the subway unable to have any kind of contact same thing with the beggars and the thieves in the middle of Pigalle prostitutes at the corner heartless and insignificant But we did do nice things, don't think that everything was terrible when there sun wasn't out from the moon both you and I we found love.

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