Eno zrno soli

Zadnje jutro je Polly odletela na konec mesta. Tam ob morju stoji majhen bel svetilnik, poleg okrogle cerkve. Od tu je bilo mesto spet videti kot ladja.

On her last morning, Polly flew to the end of the town. A small white lighthouse stands there by the sea, next to a round church. From here, the town looked like a ship again.

Ribiške barke so druga za drugo odplule iz pristanišča. Zvon v stolpu je zvonil nad strehami. Na trgu je mož z violino stal sam v prvi svetlobi.

The fishing boats left the harbour one by one. The bell in the tower rang over the roofs. On the square, the man with the violin stood alone in the first light.

Polly je še vedno čutila okus enega zrna soli. Naredili so ga morje, sonce in potrpežljive roke, na isti način že več kot sedemsto let. Sol je zgradila to belo mesto.

Polly still tasted one grain of salt. Sea, sun and patient hands made it, the same way for more than seven hundred years. Salt built this white town.

Enkrat je obletela mesto. Potem se je dvignila na jutranjem vetru. Kamnita ladja za njo je postajala majhna. Morje pred njo je bilo široko in svetlo.

She flew once around the town. Then she rose on the morning wind. The stone ship grew small behind her. The sea in front of her was wide and bright.