I am waiting for Helen on her fiftieth birthday. On the table, there’s a crystal drinking glass and a vase with rare orchids; I can’t tell if the flowers are genuine or not. Faint piano notes and a cold scent drift in the air.

我在等待海伦，为她庆祝五十岁生日。面前是一杯水，一瓶花。杯子是水晶杯，花是垂着头的兰花，不知道是真是假。

When the flint salamander stopped talking, its lava eyes dimmed and it sank back into the sand. Some of the scales on its upper body still poked out, here and there, as though they were part of no living creature, but simply stones scattered across the surface. 

Cuando la salamandra de sílex terminó de hablar, sus ojos de lava se apagaron y volvió a hundirse en la arena. Algunas de las escamas de su parte superior asomaban aún, aquí y allá, como si no formaran parte de un mismo cuerpo vivo, como si no fueran más que unas cuantas piedras dispuestas al azar.

In the timeless space that is Hotel California, Isa becomes my time.

在沒有時間的Hotel California，Isa成為我的時間。

It was a strange road. Endless dark night no matter how far I walked.

不思議な道でした。どこまで行っても闇夜。

The truth is that I don’t know how much of my life was a dream and how much was reality. Does it matter in the end?

(...) A verdade é que não sei o quanto de minha vida foi sonho e quanto foi realidade. Faz diferença, no fim das contas?