Pierwsze 50 wierszy.
One day, in a little village close to where I used to live,
but far from me today, a little girl was born.
She was called vaysha.
A beautiful little girl, said the villagers.
Her mother looked at her with adoration.
How could this mother, leaning over the cradle,
imagine that her little girl's eyes would see things this way?
Little vaysha had been born
with a left eye that only saw the past
and a right eye that only saw the future.
When little vaysha grew up and began to talk,
she explained that she saw the sky like this.
And even though her eyes were open,
like those of any sighted person,
it was as though vaysha was blind.
"Vaysha the blind girl."
This was how everyone came to call her.
Everyone was convinced that vaysha's eyes
were the result of black magic.
A gaggle of old medicine women
paraded into the house to identify the spell
and attempt to heal the little girl of this affliction.
Drink the extract of blue thistle
for 40 days before the sun rises.
Place the gallbladder of a buzzard on the left eye,
the heart of a rooster on the right eye,
an oscillated peacock feather
and the tongue of a horned viper on both.
The old woman whispered that nothing would work
unless a way was found to reunite her eyes
and bring her back to this world.
All attempts to restore her normal vision failed.
In the courtyard, she advanced with outstretched arms,
and bumped into the cherry tree.
She toppled pots in the shed.
Ripe cherries or the pots to gather them -
these did not exist for her.
In her eyes, the present did not exist.
Vaysha grew up.
She became a beautiful young woman.
The fact that she had one green eye and one brown eye
only added to her beauty.
One day, a young man came to ask for her hand.
When she laid her eyes on him, this is what she saw.
My goodness, what has this little brat come to aske me?
...his hair is all white.
Poor dear. My goodness, he smells like dirt.
His shirt is not tucked in his pants,
his knees are all scraped.
His time has come and he's asking me to marry him.
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