The night, hammered by gongs, was all around us, interspersed by brief snatches of song as incoherent as sobs, the big black night of the hot countries, with its brutal tom-tom heart that always beats too fast.
Handik hartu genuen. Gong-hotsez mailukaturiko gaua nonahi zen, dena kantu urrituz eta zotina bezain inkoherentez zartakatua, herri beroetako gau gaitz beltza, tam-tam hori bihotz duela, beti azkarregi jotzen.