where the dripping patchouli was more than scent-was the sun, was a million sexophones, was Popé making love, only much more so, incomparably more, and without end.
Mundu hartan lurrin huts baino gehiago zen tantaka zegoen patxuli: eguzkia, miloi bat sexufoi, Popé amodioa eginez; eta askoz gehiago oraindik, askoz eta askoz gehiago, neurri gabe gehiago...