Let’s try a l o n g t r a n s l a t i o n!
I’ve got here the first page of The Hobbit, describing Bilbo’s hobbit-hole:
In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not
a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of
worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare,
sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to
eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means
comfort.
It had a perfectly round door like a porthole,
painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in
the exact middle. The door opened on to a
tube-shaped hall like a tunnel: a very
comfortable tunnel without smoke, with panelled
walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided
with polished chairs, and lots and lots of pegs
for hats and coats — the hobbit was fond of
visitors.
The tunnel wound on and on, going
fairly but not quite straight into the side of the hill
— The Hill, as all the people for many miles
round called it — and many little round doors
opened out of it, first on one side and then on
another.
No going upstairs for the hobbit:
bedrooms, bathrooms, cellars, pantries (lots of
these), wardrobes (he had whole rooms
devoted to clothes), kitchens, dining-rooms, all
were on the same floor, and indeed on the
same passage.
The best rooms were all on the
left-hand side (going in), for these were the only
ones to have windows, deep-set round
windows looking over his garden, and
meadows beyond, sloping down to the river.