Chembe Moja ya Chumvi

Asubuhi yake ya mwisho Polly aliruka hadi ncha kabisa ya rasi, mahali ambapo mji unaishiwa na nchi kavu. Mnara mdogo mweupe wa taa umesimama pale juu ya ukuta wa zamani wa bahari kando ya kanisa la duara, na mawimbi hufika hadi kwenye mawe. Kutoka kwenye ncha hiyo mji kweli ulionekana kama meli, mnara wa kengele ukiwa mlingoti wake, paa zikiwa shehena yake, na vyote vikiwa vimesukumwa ndani ya Adriatiki vikishika mwelekeo wake.

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.

Mashua za uvuvi ziliondoka bandari ndogo moja baada ya nyingine, injini zake zikivuma taratibu juu ya maji yaliyotulia, kila moja ikivuta mstari wa mwanga nyuma yake. Juu kabisa, kengele ya mnara ililia saa, na sauti ikabingirika juu ya paa na kutoka hadi baharini. Uwanjani mpiga fidla wa shaba alisimama peke yake juu ya jiwe lake jeupe, na jua la kwanza lilimfikia yeye kabla ya kufikia kitu kingine chochote.

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 bado alikuwa na ladha ya chembe moja ya chumvi ulimini mwake, au alidhani hivyo, ambalo ni jambo lile lile. Bahari, jua, reki za mbao na mikono yenye subira, mapishi yale yale kwa zaidi ya miaka mia saba, na mji wa nyumba za waridi na za manjano ya udongo uliojengwa kwa mapato yake. Ni jambo la ajabu kujenga mji kwa kitu kinachoyeyuka mvuani. Ni la ajabu zaidi kwamba ilifanikiwa.

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.

Aliizunguka rasi mara moja, chini juu ya paa, akipita roshani za lesi na mguu uliolika wa simba na uwanja mweupe wenye joto, kisha akapaa juu ya upepo wa asubuhi. Nyuma yake meli ya mawe ilizidi kuwa ndogo na haikusogea. Mbele yake bahari ilikuwa wazi na ikimeremeta, na ilikuwa na ladha, hafifu sana, ya chumvi.

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.