Short-story translation - Page 7

In this list only the dedicated were allowed to read and they day by day either deleted or added something . The Blessed One collected knowledge about these points from all possible sources . Everything suspicious he corrected alone or with someone else , afterwards he weighed everything like an apothecary on the scales of his mind , and wrote down only the facts which he found interesting and original . His fantasy was as sharp as a needle , with which he often pricked the truth , and from there leaked drops of blood , which forced him to the amazing and deceitful sweet lie .
Pavel the Blessed was a strong handsome man , with a dark face and big hair shaped in curly silver waves , fully white around ears . His job was to prune vines , clean trees from caterpillars , cultivate wild trees and rose bushes , mend the clock on the town ’ s clock tower , open locks whose keys were lost , and finally , to find underground water sources for fountains and wells . These occupations gave him a chance to ramble at will everywhere , and because of that his soul was free , and writing the list of those women gave him pleasure as if it were a kid ’ s game . He was single , because it was more pleasant for him not to run after the bird , but to chase its shadow .
Once Blissful Pavel , while he was talking with the old , somewhat naive confessor of the small church , from whom he learned things trusted to him by the women , heard something that he had never thought nor written down in his love list . It was that Smarayda had a gold hair somewhere in a secret place on her body . The old father learned that from his wife , who showered in the bathroom with Smarayda .
This was a surprise to Pavel that amazed him a lot . A gold hair ! Something unheard of ! His imagination unwrapped and branched like the vines he was cutting .
“ Smarayda ? Who is Smarayda ?” he tormented his memory but couldn ’ t remember who that wonderful widow was . He knew almost everybody . Only when the father reported to him in detail who her deceased husband was , the street and the house with the biggest roses where she lived , did Pavel remember , shamefully slapping himself on his wide forehead , over which silver curls spied to see what was written on it .
The next day the comrades of the Blessed were especially excited by the news that came to be written in the secret list which certainly was known by everybody in the town . The same day the news circulated all around and scattered everywhere . It brought something unusual and festive . The people