She was twisting the thin stem of a wildflower in her fingers, her light shawl had slipped down to her elbows, and the broad gray ribbons of her hat were clinging to her chest.
Basaloretxo baten zurtoin mehea zerabilen jirabiraka atzamar artean, lepo-oihal arina ukondoetaraino iristen zitzaion, eta bularrari itsatsirik zeramatzan kapelako xingola gris zabalak.