"Lucky kid, up in the cool, stuffing himself with butter and cheese," Marcovaldo said, and every time, at the end of the street, there appeared, in a light haze, the jagged white and gray of the mountains, he felt as if he had sunk into a well, in whose light, up at the top, he seemed to see maple and chestnut fronds glinting, and to hear wild bees buzzing, and Michelino up there, lazy and happy, amid milk and honey and blackberry thickets.
Eta kale baten barren aldean, udamineko beroak apenas lausoturik, mendien goi-behe zuri-grisa ikusten zuen bakoitzean putzu baten hondora erorita bezala sentitzen zen: putzuaren goiko aldetik zetorren argiaz astigar eta gaztainondoen hosto-abarrak diz-diz, eta erleak burrunban ikusten zituela iruditzen zitzaion, eta Michelino ere han zegoela, esne, ezti eta masusta artean alfer eta zoriontsu.