Isak Dinesen: "O ar estava frio para os pulmões, a grama longa gozando...

"O ar estava frio para os pulmões, a grama longa gozando molhada, e as ervas dadas deu o seu aroma adstringente temperado. Em pouco tempo, o Cigarda começaria a cantar. A grama era eu, e o ar, as montanhas invisíveis distantes eram eu, os bois cansados eram eu. Eu respirei com o ligeiro vento noturno nas árvores espinhos."

--- Isak Dinesen

Versão em inglês

The air was cold to the lungs, the long grass dripping wet, and the herbs on it gave out their spiced astringent scent. In a little while on all sides the Cicada would begin to sing. The grass was me , and the air, the distant invisible mountains were me, the tired oxen were me. I breathed with the slight night-wind in the thorn trees.