The clouds crawled so low that passers-by would unexpectedly emerge and just as unexpectedly sink into them. The girl threw back her head, as if she wanted to ram through the whirling sullenness with her eyes. She touched the edges of the clouds with her long lashes, and her eyes were lone blue spots amidst the threatening grayness.
“I don’t love you,” said the girl, gazing at the sky, “you lied to me…”
“I didn’t lie to you.” He looked at the ground and didn’t see what went on above them.
“I love you,” the boy scraped nervously at the green hill with his shoe and kicked out a black horseshoe. “I love
“You’re simply afraid of losing me and being left alone.”
“Nonsense!” he suddenly barked. “If I’ve become a matter of indifference to you, then…”
She whipped her two blue lightning bolts at him.
“Why do you look at the ground all the time?”
He lifted his eyes laboriously, as if weights, and looked sullenly at her, but in a moment his eyes fell on the
“It’s meaningless where I look.”
“You never looked in my eyes. You were always greedy and impatient,” she executed his doubts. “You didn’t want to be happy with me, you only wanted to make me happy.”
She suddenly began to weep and hardly held off from throwing herself at his shoulder.
“I want to make at least one person happy too,” she crossly drove her heel into the clammy soil and tore away.
“Wait,” he moved after her.
The thunder coughed ropily, and powdered the leaves with drops as big as mud-balls. From within the clouds there appeared two figures. They held their hands and ran directly under the maple. They stopped, gasping and wet, happy they’d found such a dense treetop.
“Look, a horseshoe,” the boy cried out.
They sat down by the black arc, soldered into the green insanity. And somehow unexpectedly their eyes met, then their hands and lips.
“It’s good luck to find a horseshoe,” murmured her lips.
Those who find a horseshoe never think of him who lost it.
Перекладач: Andriy M. Freishyn-Chirovsky
Оригінал: Чорна підкова