In my room the same thunders were still shattering their echoes, first the roar of the "El," which seemed to hurl itself at us from far away, smashing the city every time it passed by carrying away the aqueducts; and, in between, incoherent, mechanical sounds from far below, coming up from the street, plus the soft murmur of the eddying crowd, hesitant, monotonous, always starting up again, then hesitating again and starting up again.
Nere gelan, lehengo ortots berberak zetozen oihartzuna kaskailtzera, jasaz-jasa, metroko oinazturak aurrena, iduri baitzuten urruti-urrutitik oldartzen zirela guregana, pasada bakoitzean bere akuedukto guziak hautsiz haiekin hiria apurkatzeko, eta bizkitartean azpi-azpiko mekaniken dei inkoherenteak, kaletik igotzen zirenak, eta gero jendetza zurrunbilatuaren habarrots biguina, dudak hartua, gogaikarria beti, berriz abiatzen beti eta berriz ere dudan eta atzera etortzen, jendetza.