illustration by vikky.salmon
Za sladkosťami som nikdy nešalela.
Asi to je popolštené.
Tata ich často nosil domov, mali sme ich "hore krkom".
Veríte, že ich brat menil v škole za rožky s maslom?
Celkom smiešne, nie?
/Pozn.red.: Nebojte, mamina sa o nás vždy starala.
Potopiť sa nepotopíme.
Máme dajaké tie plávacie kolesá./
Dnes, keď mi však Olga darovala bonbóny to bolo iné.
Špeciálne.
Boli tri ako oriešky pre Popolušku.
Ukrainské.Vyzerali tak isto.
Len boli popísané azbukou.
Podelila sa so mnou o to málo, čo mala z domova.
Kde sú tie Horalky a Mily?
Nech aj ona ochutná, ako chutí Slovensko.
Zatiaľ sa mi zdá, že Ukraina je sladká.
Avšak zdanie /možno/ klame.
Olga tvrdí, že je u nich vojna.
Ja som to tak nevnímala, pokým som ju nestretla.
A ona nevyslovila to slovo.
xxx
Sweets have never been my favourite.
We always used to have more than enough of them at home.
However...
She gave me sweets today.
Ukrainian.
They look the same.
All that differs is the wrapper, which is covered cyrillic.
All that differs is the wrapper, which is covered cyrillic.
She shared that very small fraction of homeland which she had at hand.
So far I feel that Ukraine tastes sweet.
However perception may be faulty at times.
She states it is war out there.
I have never perceived it that way until I have come across her.
Until she has spoken out that word.*
*Translations don't always work out.
That is why I am keeping this short.
11/11/2014
Žiadne komentáre:
Zverejnenie komentára