More sa upokojuje

Na siedmy deň bolo more pokojnejšie. Vlny boli veľké, ale pomalé. Vietor hladil ich biele hrebene. Búrka ďaleko odtiaľ sa skončila.

On day seven the sea was softer. The waves were big but slow. The wind combed their white tops. The storm far away was over.

Starý albatros sa vrátil so svojím ďalekohľadom. Povedal, zostala si, malý vták. Videla si celý príbeh. Videla si obrov z Nazaré.

The old albatross came back with his spyglass. He said, you stayed, little bird. You watched the whole story. You have seen the giants of Nazaré.

Polly sa naposledy pozrela z majáka. More bolo opäť pokojné a modré. Blízko pláže tmavá čiara vo vode ukazovala skrytý kaňon. Odpočíval a čakal na ďalšiu búrku.

Polly took one last look from the lantern. The sea was calm and blue again. Near the beach, a dark line in the water showed the hidden canyon. It was resting, waiting for the next storm.

Potom Polly vzlietla do zlatého rána. Letela na juh popri pobreží. Červený maják sa za ňou zmenil na malú bodku.

Then Polly flew up into the golden morning. She flew south along the coast. The red lantern became a small dot behind her.