Um Grão de Sal
At dawn Polly sits on the lighthouse at the very tip of the town, watches the fishing boats leave, and flies out over the sea with the taste of one grain of salt.
Before you read
Before you read
Na última manhã, Polly voou até ao fim da vila. Ali há um pequeno farol branco junto ao mar, ao lado de uma igreja redonda. Dali, a vila parecia outra vez um navio.
Os barcos de pesca saíram do porto um a um. O sino da torre tocou sobre os telhados. Na praça, o homem do violino estava sozinho na primeira luz.
Polly ainda sentia o sabor de um grão de sal. O mar, o sol e mãos pacientes fizeram-no, da mesma maneira há mais de setecentos anos. Foi o sal que construiu esta vila branca.
Deu uma volta à vila. Depois subiu no vento da manhã. O navio de pedra ficou pequeno atrás dela. À frente dela, o mar era largo e brilhante.
That's the story.
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