This was the time of year when my father used to repair his boat, while Mother watched from the garden, and I too watched, my eyes trained on his agile hands, on the smoke curling from his pipe, and on the yellow butterflies.
Orain ez zegoen pintatu beharreko txaluparik, ama aspaldian hilik zegoen eta aita gogo txarrez zebilen makurturik etxe gozakaitzaren inguruan.