Here too I entered, in this house.
Here I saw the mother sewing.
A girl, almost a woman (one would say: how tall, how beautiful she is becoming),
raised her large dark eyes, that were not looking at me.
Another child, a tiny shadow, hardly a cry, a small noise on the floor,
touched my legs gently, without noticing me.
Outside, near the door, an unworried man was hammering on a piece of iron.

I entered, but nobody noticed me.
I entered through one door to go out through another.
A wind seemed to shake their clothes
And the girl raised her face, her big, vague eyes, and raised her fingers to her forehead.
A deep, quiet sigh escaped the mother's breast.
The child felt tired and softly closed his eyes.
The father stayed his hammer and set his gaze on the blue line of the twilight.