痴测丑木补诲谩惫补苍颈别
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Translated by Heather Trebatick谩听
Suddenly I鈥檓 a听herdsman of cows, sheep and goats. My brain can鈥檛 grasp and decipher what is going on down there in the village. People assembled with their overflowing rucksacks, suitcases and bundles. Troops, hustle and bustle, weeping and spread-winged eagles. Blank faces, pleading, men and women on their knees, clasped hands, wailing children, startled animals, shots fired in the air. I听run into the shepherd鈥檚 hut and hide in the tangled pile of birch twigs and branches in which I听wanted to wait until all these strange things had passed. Someone discovers I听am not among the rest and sends a听soldier to get me to join the others. I听could have fled much, much further into the depths of the forest, crawled into an animal鈥檚 den under a听rock or climbed a听tree and tied myself to it. Become part of its crown, catching open-mouthed the rain and snow, the light of the moon and sun, other stars and planets, meteors and comets, swallowing mist and clouds, gradually merging with the flowing resin, and lived there safely for the rest of my life. And then gone up unharmed to heaven. But perhaps I听believe that this peer of mine will bring me deliverance with an incomprehensible beginning, but possibly a听calm continuation. Which is why I听don鈥檛 resist and in answer to his scared, squeaky calling I听come out of the forest and walk up to him. Perhaps I听expect a听shaking of hands, perhaps an explanation. I听stand right in front of him and say nothing. Nothing. For a听moment we are silent. His frightened, trembling hands suddenly lift his rifle. I鈥檓 taken unawares and that prevents me from assessing the situation, in which a听couple of seconds later the butt lands on my right temple. I听fall, I听faint, but a听moment later I听come to with my hands tied behind my back. I听have to get up and walk along the dusty path. In his high-pitched voice the soldier begins to curse me, calling me a听bandit and murderer. I听can鈥檛 make sense of it, I听don鈥檛 understand. I听walk on, still hoping that when we get to the village everything will be explained. Then a听big black horse comes into sight with a听middle-aged soldier in the saddle. He shouts something and only now do my knees begin to give way under me, but听still I manage to stumble on. I听hope this soldier has come to rescue me. That he has come to explain it all to this confused young man and I听will be free again, just as I听had been all my life until a听few minutes ago. But a听couple of metres before we reach him comes another blow. The rifle butt again. This time I听don鈥檛 regain consciousness. The older soldier throws a听rope down on me. The younger one understands immediately. His previous external and internal trembling does not change. All that disappears is its original cause. A听second later he realises what he is going to do. All of a听sudden he must shit. My death is accompanied by the murderer鈥檚 brief runny shitting in the ferns. Then he vomits. The firm tightening of the rope just above my ankles will deny my legs their mortal convulsions. They should follow in a听minute. The horse is whipped into a听mad gallop. Flying stretched out, my body leaps behind it. It wafts. Wafts in the heat of the passing day. It鈥檚 like that transparent plastic sack, once filled with ammonium saltpetre, but now with hay. It is tied to our dog鈥檚 collar by a听string and he runs after me up a听snow-covered hill. Then I听sit on it and ride down the icy slope in what was once Weinberger鈥檚 orchard and then repeat it over and over again. Now, though, my body is flying after the horse and my face, head, the whole of my body leave their last visible traces on this earth. Just a听last red line. And I听am already dead. At last. Right now. Now. It has happened this very moment. My earthly existence has finally ended. I听have often thought about it. How will it all happen? What will I听be aware of at that particular moment? A听strange moment of a听definitive end;.a horse running on and on. We stop just before we get to the village and the horse breathes in my death through widened nostrils. A听moment later the young soldier catches up with us. He looks down at my body for a听few seconds more. He considers a听pointless, breathless, shaky shot out of mercy. Nothing. He does nothing. He walks away. From the surrounding meadows a听herd of grazing animals now come running up to my body. Dozens of bodies jostling each other and forming a听thick matted ball of animals. They are mostly lambs, their fathers and mothers, which together with other beasts set up a听constant bleating. A听thunderous parting with the soul of a听herdsman reverberates across the land for hours on end. Which is why someone will soon decide to rename deserted Rychwald 听鈥淥wczary鈥�.[1]
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