Eno zrno soli

Zadnje jutro je Polly odletela čisto na konico polotoka, kjer mestu zmanjka kopnega. Tam na starem obalnem zidu stoji majhen bel svetilnik poleg okrogle cerkve, valovi pa pljuskajo vse do kamna. S konice je bilo mesto res videti kot ladja: zvonik njen jambor, strehe njen tovor, vse skupaj potisnjeno v Jadran in vztrajno na svoji smeri.

On her last morning Polly flew out to the very tip of the peninsula, where the town runs out of land. A small white lighthouse stands there on the old sea wall beside a round church, and the waves come right up to the stone. From the point the town really did look like a ship, the bell tower its mast, the roofs its cargo, the whole thing pushed out into the Adriatic and holding its course.

Ribiške barke so druga za drugo zapuščale mali mandrač, motorji so tiho brneli na mirni vodi in vsaka je za seboj vlekla sled svetlobe. Visoko zgoraj je zvon v stolpu odbil uro in zvok se je zvalil čez strehe in daleč na morje. Na trgu je bronasti violinist stal sam na svojem belem kamnu in prvo sonce je našlo njega, preden je našlo karkoli drugega.

The fishing boats left the little harbour one by one, their engines a low murmur on the still water, each one trailing a line of light. Far above, the bell in the tower struck the hour and the sound rolled down over the roofs and out across the sea. In the square the bronze violinist stood alone on his white stone, and the first sun found him before it found anything else.

Polly je imela na jeziku še vedno okus enega samega zrna soli, ali pa se ji je tako zdelo, kar je bilo na koncu isto. Morje, sonce, lesene grablje in potrpežljive roke, isti recept že več kot sedemsto let, in iz izkupička zgrajeno mesto rožnatih in okrastih hiš. Nenavadno je zgraditi mesto iz nečesa, kar se v dežju raztopi. Še bolj nenavadno je, da je uspelo.

Polly still had the taste of a single grain of salt on her tongue, or thought she did, which came to the same thing. Sea, sun, wooden rakes and patient hands, the same recipe for more than seven hundred years, and a town of pink and ochre houses raised on the proceeds. It is a strange thing to build a town out of something that dissolves in the rain. It is stranger still that it worked.

Enkrat je obkrožila polotok, nizko nad strehami, mimo čipkastih balkonov, zglajene levje šape in toplega belega trga, nato pa se je dvignila na jutranjem vetru. Za njo je kamnita ladja postajala vse manjša in se ni premaknila. Pred njo je bilo morje odprto in bleščeče in imelo je, čisto rahlo, okus po soli.

She circled the peninsula once, low over the roofs, past the lace balconies and the lion's worn paw and the warm white square, and then rose on the morning wind. Behind her the stone ship grew smaller and did not move. Ahead of her the sea was open and shining, and it tasted, very faintly, of salt.