I'd thought of them all from time to time, of the lieutenant, the tortured black, and also of my Spaniard, the priest, he had come down from heaven that night with the dead to say prayers, and his golden crucifix was getting in his way, making it hard for him to fly from sky to sky.
Horiek bai ibili nituen inoiz edo behin gogoan, tenientea, torturapeko beltza eta bai nere espainola ere, apaiza, hura ere han zen hilekin gau hartan zeruko otoitzera etorria eta bere urrezko gurutzeak traba haundia egiten zion zerutik zerura zilipurdi egiteko.