Tågen lukker sig bag hende

På sin sidste eftermiddag fløj Polly højt over kysten. Under hende lå temarkerne, kratersøerne og den stille skov. Øen lignede gamle vulkaner, der langsomt bliver grønne.

On her last afternoon, Polly flew high above the coast. Below her were the tea fields, the crater lakes, and the quiet forest. The island looked like old volcanoes, still slowly turning green.

Bådene sejlede tilbage til havnen. Lysene tændtes langs kysten. Duften af røg drev op fra stranden.

Boats went back to the harbor. Lights came on along the coast. Smoke smell drifted up from the shore.

Tågen kom ind fra havet. Den dækkede krateret, så temarkerne, så havnen. Polly havde set det før.

Fog came in from the sea. It covered the crater, then the tea fields, then the harbor. Polly had seen this before.

Hun fløj ud over vandet. Bag hende kogte øen stadig aftensmad under jorden og dyrkede te. En lille grå fugl var i sikkerhed i sin skov.

She flew out over the water. Behind her, the island kept cooking dinner underground and growing tea. A small grey bird stayed safe in its forest.