The Halloween Tree

Glava 13

Samhain, scythe uplifted, gazed all about, happy at his games. He chuckled a most delicious chuckle, spat fiery spittle on his horny hands, clenched the scythe tighter, swung it up, and froze… .	Samhain, s podignutom kosom, osvrnuo se svud uokolo, razveseljen svojom igrom. Zasmijuljio se najfinijim smijuljenjem, vatreno pljunuo u žuljevite šake, čvršće stegnuo kosu, zamahnuo njome iznad glave i... sledio se.
For somewhere, someone was singing.	Jer negdje je netko pjevao.
Somewhere near the top of a hill, in a small clump of trees, a small bonfire flickered.	Negdje pri vrhu brda, u malom klupku drveća, zapalucao je sitan kriješ.
Men like shadows were gathered there, lifting up their arms and chanting.	Oko kojeg su se skupili ljudi, nalik na sjene, pa podigli ruke i zapojali.
Samhain listened, his scythe like a great smile in his arms.	Samhain je poslušao, a kosa mu je u rukama nalikovala golemome smiješku.
“O Samhain, God of the Dead!	O, Samhain, Bože mrtvih!
Hear us!	Počuj nas!
We the Holy Druid Priests in	Mi sveti druidi, u
This Grove of Trees, the great Oaks,	Tom svetom lugu, velikoga hrašća,
Plead for the Souls of the Dead!”	Zaklinjemo te za duše mrtvih!
Far away, these strange men by their bright fire lifted metal knives, lifted cats and goats in their hands, chanting:	Tamo daleko, ti čudni ljudi kraj jarke vatre podigli su kovinske noževe, podigli rukama mačke i koze, i zapojali:
“We pray for the souls of those	Molimo za duše onih
Who are turned to Beasts.	Što postaše skot.
O God of the Dead, we sacrifice	O, Bože mrtvih, prinosimo ti
These beasts	ove životinje
So that you will let free	Da oslobodiš duše
The souls of our loved ones	Ljubljenih naših
Who died this year!”	Što umriješe ovoga ljeta!
The knives flashed.	Noževi su bljesnuli.
Samhain smiled an even greater smile. The animals shrieked. All around the boys on the earth, the grass, the rocks, the trapped souls, lost in spiders, locked in roaches, put away in fleas and pillbugs and centipedes, gaped and yammered silent yammers and twitched and roiled.	Samhain se nasmiješio još širim smiješkom. Životinje su kriknule. Svuda ukrug dječaka po tlu, po travi, po kamenju, zarobljene duše, izgubljene u paucima, zaključane u žoharima, sklonjene u buhe i lisne uši i stonoge, dahnule su i zajaukale nijemim jaucima, i stale se previjati i mlatarati.
Tom winced. He thought he heard a million small, oh very microscopic, bleats of pain and release from around him where the centipedes capered, spiders danced.	Tom se trznuo. Učinilo mu se da je oko sebe začuo milijun sitnih, o, kako mikroskopskih, blejeva boli i olakšanja, odande gdje su stonoge skakutale i pauci plesali.
“Let free! Let be!” prayed the druids on the hill. The fire blazed.	"Oslobodi! Oživi!" molili su druidi na uzvišici. Vatra je buktala.
A sea wind roared over the meadows, brushed the rocks, touched at the spiders, rolled the pillbugs, tumbled the roaches. The tiny spiders, insects, the miniature dogs and cows fluffed away like a million snowflakes. The tiny souls trapped in insect bodies dissolved.	Vjetar je smorac zagrmio preko ledina, očešao se o stijenje, dotakao pauke, zakotrljao lisne uši, prevrnuo žohare. Sičušni pauci, kukci, minijaturni psi i krave otperjali su nalik na milijun sniježnih pahuljica. Sićušne su se duše, zarobljene u kukačkim tijelima, najednom rastočile.
Released, with a vast cavern whisper, they whistled up the sky.	Otpuštene, uz golemi špiljski šapat, odzviždale su u nebo.
“To Heaven!” cried the druid priests. “O free! Go!”	"U nebo!" uskliknuli su druidi. "O, slobodne! Hajte!"
They flew. They vanished in the air with a great sigh of thanks and much gratitude.	I poletješe. Iščeznuše u zrak uz veliki uzdah zahvale i mnogo zahvalnosti.
Sanhain, God of the Dead, shrugged, and let them go. Then, just as suddenly, he stiffened.	Samhain, Bog mrtvih, na ovo je samo slegnuo ramenima, i pustio ih da odu. A onda se, podjednako nenadano, i sam ukočio.
As did the hidden boys and Mr. Moundshroud, crouched in the rocks.	Baš kao što su to učinili i skriveni dječaci i gospodin Grobolijes, skutreni među stijenama.
Through a valley and across the hill ran an army of Roman soldiers, a troop on the double. Their leader ran before them, shouting:	Kroz dolinu i preko brda jurila je legija rimskih vojnika, čitava formacija trčećim korakom. A pred njima je trčao njihov vođa, i klicao:

“Soldiers of Rome! Destroy the pagans! Destroy the unholy religion! Seutonius so orders!”	"Vojnici carskoga Rima! Smlavite pogane! Smoždite tu poganu vjeru! Svetonije vam to zapovijeda!"
“For Seutonius!”	"Za Svetonija!"
Samhain, in the sky, raised his scythe, too late!	Samhain, gore u nebu, podigao je kosu, no prekasno!
The soldiers slammed swords and axes into the bases of the holy druid oaks.	Vojnici su mačevima i sjekirama tresnuli o podnožja svetoga druidskoga hrašća.
Samhain shrieked in pain as if the axes had chopped his knees. The holy trees groaned, whistled, and, with a final chop, thundered to earth.	Kao da su mu sjekire podsjekle koljena, Samhain je kriknuo od bola. Sveta su stabla zastenjala, zazviždala i onda se, uz završni udarac, svalila na tlo.
Samhain trembled in the high air.	Samhain je zadrhtao u svojim visinama.
The druid priests, fleeing, stopped and shuddered. Trees fell.	Druidi, u bijegu, najednom su zastali i zadrhtali. Stabla su pala.
The priests, chopped at the ankles, the knees, fell. They were blown over like oaks in a hurricane.	Svećenici, zasječeni pod koljena, gležnjeve, padoše na zemlju. Svališe ih zapuši, kao hrašće u uraganu.
“No!” roared Samhain in the high air.	"Ne!" zaurlao je Samhain u visinama.
“But yes!” cried the Romans. “Now!”	"O, da!" uskliknuše Rimljani. "Sad!"
The soldiers gave a final mighty blow.	Vojnici zadaše i zadnji, strahoviti udarac.
And Samhain, God of the Dead, torn at his roots, chopped at his ankles, began to fall.	Samhain, Bog mrtvih, razdrtoga korijenja, posječen u gležnjevima, poletio je prema zemlji.
The boys, staring up, leaped out of the way. For it was like a giant forest falling all in one fall. They were shadowed by his midnight descent. The thunder of his death came before him. He was the greatest tree in all existence ever, the tallest oak ever to plummet down and die. Down he came through the wild air, screaming, flailing to hold himself up.	Dječaci su podigli oči i skokom mu se maknuli s puta. Jer bilo je to kao da, u jednom padu, pada orijaška šuma. Taj ponoćni spust sve ih je prekrio svojom sjenom. Grmljavina njegove pogibije stigla je prije njega. Bilo je to najveće stablo što je ikad postojalo, najviši hrast što se ikad prevalio i umro. I pade dolje kroz divlji zrak, vrišteći i mlateći rukama da bi se održao na nogama.
Samhain hit the earth.	Samhain tresnu o tlo.
He dropped with a roar that shook the bones of the hills and snuffed the holy fires.	Srušio se s urlikom od kojeg su se stresle kosti brda i zaunjkali sveti krijesovi.
And with Samhain cut and down and dead, the last of the druid oaks fell with him, like wheat cut with a final scythe. His own huge scythe, a vast smile lost in the fields, dissolved into a puddle of silver and sank into the grass.	A kad je Samhain bio posječen i srušen i mrtav, s njim su pali i posljednji druidski hrastovi, poput klasova pokošenih konačnom kosom. A njegova golema kosa, golemi smiješak izgubljen u poljima, rastočila se u baricu srebra i potonula u travu.
Silence. A smoldering of fires. A blowing of leaves. Instantly the sun went down.	Tišina. Tinjanje krijesova. Otpuhivanje lišća. Sunce se u trenutku spustilo.
The druid priests bled in the grass as the boys watched and the Roman captain prowled the dead fires kicking the holy ashes.	Druidi krvare u travi, dok rimski centurion obilazi utihle vatre i nogom razbacuje sveti pepeo.
“Here we shall build our temples to our gods!”	"Tu ćemo izgraditi hramove svojim bogovima!"
The soldiers lit new fires and burned incense before golden idols which they set in place. But, no sooner lit, than a star shone in the east. On far desert sands, to camel bells, Three Wise Men moved.	Vojnici pale nove vatre i pale kad pred podignutim zlatnim kumirima. No vatre se nisu pravo ni upalile, a već je na istoku zasjala zvijezda. Na dalekom pijesku pustinje, na zvuk devina zvonca, pokrenula su se Sveta tri kralja.
The Roman soldiers lifted their bronze shields against the glare of the Star in the sky. But their shields melted. The Roman idols melted and became shapes of Mary and her Son.	Rimski su legionari podigli brončane štitove, da se zaštite od bljeska Zvijezde na nebu. No njihovi su se štitovi rastalili. Rastalili su se i rimski kumiri i preobrazili u lik Marije i njezina sina.
The soldiers’ armor melted, dripped, changed. They were dressed now in the garments of priests who sang Latin before yet newer altars, even as Moundshroud, crouched, squinting, weighed the scene, and whispered it to his small masked friends:	I njihov se oklop rastalio, prokapao, promijenio se. Sad su bili odjeveni u odjeću svećenika koji su pjevali na latinskom pred još novijim žrtvenicima, dok je Grobolijes, poguren, priškiljen, odvagivao prizor, i šaptao svojim malim, zakrabuljenim prijateljima:
“Aye, boys, see? Gods following gods. The Romans cut the Druids, their oaks, their God of the Dead, bang! down! And put in their own gods, eh? Now the Christians run and cut the Romans down! New altars, boys, new incense, new names …”	"A, dječaci, vidite? Bogove slijede novi bogovi. Rimljani su posjekli druide, njihovo hrašće, njihova Boga mrtvih, tras! Dolje! I na njihovo mjesto postavili vlastita božanstva, ha? A sad su došli kršćani i posjekli Rimljane! Novi žrtvenici, dječaci, novi kadovi, nova imena..."
The wind blew the altar candles out.	Zapuh je vjetra utrnuo oltarske svijeće.
In darkness, Tom cried out. The earth shuddered and spun. Rain drenched them.	Usred tame, Tom je uskliknuo. Tlo se zatreslo i zavrtjelo. Kiša ih je promočila.
“What’s happening, Mr. Moundshroud? Where are we?” Moundshroud struck a flinty thumb into fire and held it up.	"Što se to zbiva, gospodine Grobolijes? Gdje smo to mi?" Grobolijes je stavio u vatru kremeniti palac pa ga podigao.
“Why, bless me, boys. It’s the Dark Ages. The longest darkest night ever. Christ long since come and gone in the world and—”	"Mislim, o Bože, dječaci. Sad smo u mračnom srednjem vijeku. U najdužoj, najmračnijoj noći svih vremena. Krist je već odavna sišao u svijet i otišao..."
“Where’s Pipkin?”	"Gdje je Pipkin?"
“Here!” cried a voice from the black sky. “I think I’m on a broom! It’s taking me—away!”	"Tu!" uskliknuo je glas iz crnoga neba. "Čini mi se da sam na metli! Ona me... odnosi!"
“Hey, me too,” said Ralph and then J.J., and then Hackles Nibley, and Wally Babb, and all the rest.	"Hej, i ja", rekao je Ralph, pa onda J.J., pa Hackles Nibley, pa Wally Babb, i svi ostali.

There was a huge whisper like a gigantic cat stroking its whiskers in the dark.	Začuo se golemi šapat, kao da neka orijaška mačka u mraku gladi brkove.
“Brooms,” muttered Moundshroud. “The gathering of the Brooms. The October Broom Festival. The annual Migration.”	"Metle", promrmljao je Grobolijes. "Skupština metli. Listopadska svetkovina metli. Godišnja seoba."
“To Where?” asked Tom, calling up, for everyone was making traffic on the air now in whisking shrieks.	"Ali kamo?" upitao je Tom, zazivajući u vis, jer su sad već svi pravili prometnu gužvu u zraku, popraćenu glasnim zamasima metle.
“The Broom Works, of course!”	"U metlarnicu, naravno!"
“Help! I’m flying!” said Henry-Hank. Whisk. A broom whistled him away.	"Upomoć! Letim!" rekao je Henry-Hank. Fiju. Uz zvižduk ga odnese metla.
A great brambly cat flashed by Tom’s cheek. He felt a wooden pole between his legs jump up.	Kraj Tomova je obraza bljesnula golema trnovita mačka. Osjetio je kako mu je među nogama poskočila drvena motka.
“Hang on!” said Moundshroud. “When attacked by a broom, only one thing to do, hold tight!”	"Držite se!" rekao je Grobolijes. "Kad vas napadne metla, preostaje vam samo jedno: čvrsto se držite!"
“I’m holding!” cried Tom, and flew away.	"Držim se!" uskliknuo je Tom i odletio.

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