Mnara Kati ya Bahari Mbili

Aliporudi mjini, Polly alisimama chini ya mnara wa kengele kando ya kanisa kubwa la Mtakatifu Joji juu ya kilima. Mnara huo haujaungana na kanisa. Umesimama peke yake, nguzo ya mraba ya mawe yenye chumba cha kengele chenye matao na kilele kilichochongoka, uliojengwa zaidi ya miaka mia nne iliyopita kama nakala ndogo ya mnara maarufu wa kengele wa Mtakatifu Marko huko Venisi. Mnara wa asili ulianguka zaidi ya miaka mia moja iliyopita ukajengwa upya, kwa hiyo nakala iliyoko Piran sasa ni ya zamani kuliko mnara inaouiga.

Back in town, Polly stood at the foot of the bell tower beside the great church of Saint George on the hill. It is not attached to the church. It stands alone, a square shaft of stone with a belfry of arches and a pointed spire, built more than four hundred years ago as a smaller copy of the famous bell tower of Saint Mark in Venice. The original collapsed more than a hundred years ago and was rebuilt, so the copy in Piran is now older than the tower it copies.

Ndani, ngazi mia moja arobaini na sita za mbao zinazunguka kupanda juu katika mwanga wenye vumbi. Polly alizirukia moja baada ya nyingine, akipita kamba na mihimili, hadi kengele kubwa ziliponing'inia juu ya kichwa chake, kila moja kubwa kiasi cha kuogea ndani yake. Huku juu upepo ulikuja moja kwa moja kutoka baharini na ulinukia, bila shaka yoyote, chumvi.

Inside, one hundred and forty-six wooden steps wind up through the dusty light. Polly hopped them one at a time, past the ropes and the beams, until the great bells hung over her head, each one big enough to bathe in. Up here the wind came straight off the sea and smelled, unmistakably, of salt.

Mji mzima ulikuwa chini yake. Paa za rangi ya chungwa ziliporomoka kutoka kilimani hadi majini pande zote mbili za rasi, na chini kabisa umbo jeupe la yai la uwanja liling'aa juani kama mwezi mdogo ulioshuka kupumzika. Mashua zilichora mistari myeupe kuvuka bandari. Upande mmoja wa mnara hakukuwa na kitu ila buluu, Bahari ya Adriatiki iliyo wazi ikiendelea kuelekea Italia.

The whole town lay beneath her. Orange roofs tumbled down the hill to the water on both sides of the peninsula, and at the bottom the white oval of the square glowed in the sun like a small moon that had come down to rest. Boats drew white lines across the harbour. On one side of the tower there was nothing but blue, the open Adriatic going on toward Italy.

Polly aligeukia upande mwingine. Mbali kusini, ng'ambo ya mkunjo wa ghuba, pwani ilikuwa tambarare na mmeremeto hafifu mweupe ulilala juu ya nchi mahali mashamba ya chumvi yalipodaka mwanga wa alasiri. Maji upande mmoja, chumvi upande mwingine, na mji mdogo ukiwa umesimama sawasawa juu ya mwamba wake katikati yao, umejengwa juu ya kimoja na kulipiwa kwa kingine. Shakwe alikuwa amemwambia ukweli.

Polly turned to the other side. Far away to the south, past the curve of the bay, the coast flattened and a faint white shimmer lay on the land where the salt pans caught the afternoon light. Water on one hand, salt on the other, and the little town balanced on its rock between them, built from one and paid for by the other. The gull had told her the truth.