I woke about midday, and at once the situation, as I had disentangled it, came back to me. There lay the little book on my night stand, and my poem. My resolution, too, was there. After the nights sleep it had taken shape and looked at me out of the confusion of my youth with a calm and friendly greeting. Haste makes no speed.
Eguerdi aldean esnatzean, berriro nire egoera argituaz topo egin nuen bat-batean, gaumahaiaren gainean liburutxoa eta nire poesia zeuden eta gaueko loaren ondoren borobildu eta trinkoturik, nire azken bizitzako nahasmenduaren gainetik hotz baina adiskidetsu nire erabakia neukan begira.