Original (inglés)

PROLOGUE THE EVE Between the grey walls of its bath—so like its cradle and its coffin—lay one of those small and lonely creatures which inhabit the surface of the earth for seventy years. As on every other evening the sun was sinking and the moon, unseen, was rising. The round head of flesh and bone floated upon the deep water of the bath. "Why should I move?" rolled its thoughts, bewitched by solitude. "The earth itself is moving. "Summer and winter and winter and summer