How responsive is my soul, like a taut bow, how ready are my thoughts, like arrows in my quiver, not poisoned, and yet able to blend with blood.
Zein gozatua dudan arima, uztai tenkatu bat bezala, zein prest ditudan gogoetak, geziak gezi-ontzian bezala, pozoirik gabeak baina, hala ere, odolarekin nahasteko gai.