In the clock tower of another Basque people in Urrugne written reads this sad statement: Vulnerant omnes, ultima NECAT. All wound, the last over. Better yet the sad sentence could be written in the clock tower of Zaro.

At the cemetery, around the church, among the stone crosses, glow in the spring roses of various colors, red, yellow, and white lilies look sad.

Since this cemetery is a very extensive valley, a gentle, pastoral landscape. The heavy silence that reigns in the cemetery, just as the weak murky rumors of people’s lives.

Occasionally, you hear the creaking of a door, the tinkling of cow bells, the voice of a child, the buzzing of flies … and from time to time, we also hear the hammer of the clock, muffled voice of death, grim, in the valley that has a sad echo.

After these fatal strokes, the silence that comes after seems a sweet compliment.

In protest of eternal life, in the same cemetery weeds grow strong, sturdy stems extend their on the floor and give a pungent odor at twilight, after hours of sun, chirping birds with loud clamor and roosters released air his brave crowing like a challenge.