In the merest hole of a place in Aegina or Phaleron I have tasted food so fresh that it remained divinely clean despite the dirty fingers of the tavern waiter; its quantity, though modest, was nevertheless so satisfying that it seemed to contain in the most reduced form possible some essence of immortality.
Eginako edo Falerako edozein txiribogatan hain elikagai freskoak dastatu izan ditut non, tabernako mutilaren hatzamar zikinak gorabehera, miresgarriki garbiak iruditzen bait zitzaizkidan beti, hain xumeak baina hain gogobetegarriak non bai bait zirudien beren baitan, erarik trinkoenean bildurik, hilezkortasunezko esentziaren bat zeukatela.