The chase that sly, glib, lying minx had led me, Musyne, the Argentines, their ships full of meat. Topo, the bedraggled cohorts on the Place Clichy, Robinson, the waves, the sea, poverty, Lola's gleaming white kitchen, her Negro servant. And me sitting there as if I were somebody else.
Ehiza, goaita, zelata, berritsu, gezurtsu, arretatsu hura, Musyne, argentinarrak, haien untziak, haragiz bete-beteak, Topo, Place Clichyko destripagaien kohorteak, Robinson, uhinak, itsasoa, miseria, Lolaren sukalde zuri-zuria, haren mirabe beltza, eta beste deusik ez eta neroni bertan beste nornahi bezala.