all the words inside me had to be uttered already
that's why baa
*
a foggy morning
at five o'clock dawn is slowly breaking
the cold is brutal
the windows of the trailer are fogged up
I've been crawling out of my sleeping bag for half an hour
like a caterpillar out of its cocoon
fourth day without a shower
I boil water for tea
warming socks and undershirt on the mess tin lid
I pull on my mom's tapered work pants
the fog is so thick I could eat it for breakfast
Raná hill is almost invisible
today I'm taking Cowboy
the herd is waiting at the exit
we set off calmly for the hill
the lambs are dawdling
we climb
in the fog we begin to trust each other
*
the whispering of the grass is becoming my native language
the moment of awakening thick as coconut oil
melts in the warmth of the day into an indescribable time
between herding sessions my breath almost stops
with the fading bleating
I already breathe with them
I grow with the lambs
I seep through the parched earth
can love for a place be reciprocal?
*
first day alone
it’s raining
sheep stuck in a small ravine
away
I cry hysterically and yell at Cowboy
lay down
I lost sight of him
the sound of sheep's hooves echoes in the hills
lie down
come
instead of herding them from the right, he went through the herd
and it's my fault
I didn't see him in the bushes
or behind the hill
actually, I don't know
in a frenzy, I lash out
I tie him up
he doesn't understand
the frightened sheep are huddled in the narrow pass
hush hush
I wave my stick
I clap
nothing
the herd only continues to scatter
I can't do it without a dog
all wet
let's do it together
all of a sudden it uncorks
at once
they look like droppings
marching into the pen
they begin to understand where’s home
*
I’m ahead
I walk quietly around
so I don't scare them
they know about me
sometimes I show up and intervene
I am always present
who is our shepherd?
*
nothing but the same old overgrazed thoughts
*
silent heat
the bleating sounds like in a jar
lamentation
the song of frogs
male nooo
a horn
children's nooo
gargling
screaming
a fading song of sirens
accompanied by a dog's rapid breathing
rustling of so many moving bodies
in the tall vegetation
I am standing in the shade
it seems to me as if a thousand years have passed
I become a statue of a shepherd
with a dog on a leash
because he doesn't care about me
apparently in overalls and a baseball cap I look like a man
I have lost even my gender
all that remains is the role of a shepherd*ess
and my shadow imprinted in the ground perhaps forever
Published in: Lenka Chýle, Raná / shepherdess’s diary, Ouklejky Publishers, Čelákovice, 2024, pp. 13, 17, 44, 67, 91, 92, 93.
Translation: Tomáš Pivoda