On a bench close by an old man stares into space for hours on end; his is mummified, perfectly still, with his heels together, his chin leaning on the knob of the walking-stick that he grips tightly with both hands, gazing into emptiness, for hours.
Nun banco, cerca de ti, un vello momificado inmóbil, cos pés xuntos e o papo apoiado sobre o bastón que sostén con ambas mans, mira fixamente ao baleiro, durante horas.