During this month-in which I went laboriously over, as over a tune, though never to my satisfaction, these visions of Florence, Venice, Pisa, from which the desire that they excited in me drew and kept something as profoundly personal as if it had been love, love for another person-I never ceased to believe that they corresponded to a reality independent of myself, and they made me conscious of as glorious a hope as could have been cherished by a Christian in the primitive age of faith, on the eve of his entry into Paradise.
Hilabete hartan-beraietaz ase ezinik, melodia inoiz ez aspergarri baten modura, Florentzia, Venezia eta Pisako irudi haiek, pertsona batenganako amodioak sorraraziko zidakeèn desira sakona bezain pertsonalizatua eraginez, irudimenean etengabe irabiaka nerabiltzala-, ezin nion pentsatzeari utzi ezen irudiok niregandik at zegoèn errealitate bati zegozkiola ezinbestean, eta, halaxe, lehen garaietako kristau batek paradisuan sartu bezperan gogoaren elikagarri sendi zezakeena bezalako esperantza eder batek bizi ninduen.