#atšii

[sannehnagi]

Ruqtui ni’átui gapa’asal.

Xudui etš’utui gaketšutil.

Day consumes night.

Night destroys day.

[sannehnagi]

Nige’ía The child who looked up.

Ía xaexiš, á iyár au’ngix gi’qehal, o’ni’ehiš ía. There was a child, this was before there were legends or memories, but there was still a child.

Setatanáyingex gatšinadáweeš. They wore a long scarf to blow in the wind.

Ía šiingex gagegéniš a’ganomauniš yax aná ni’šali. The child and the scarf played and danced as children still do. Airi xayaxaq yax at’el, o’ke’el, nkawatat’ii. Many things were the same now as then, except one thing, the wall.

Ndanákendá trangaš gee gataniil. A high terrible wall stretching towards the sky.

Kendá u’ehel yuuni na’kopapatlesiq, to’kogatatehanutš’i, o’litš’ígotl.  Giixaní yunt’ qa’gatšiq ušiitrox au’el geeš. It had existed so long no one knew how it had been built.  that did not bother them.  Why wonder when the mountains began or why the sky was high.  Ae heeheq nkawatat’ii ehel yax. Like these things were so the wall was. Atli yátakli a’as’qekli eli, lisure qašali qeyi perutaš. The people worked as farmers, and launderers, doing their duties with their heads bowed.

Ía nkawá ganigeeš araš. Only the child looked up at the wall.

Laagissiitšoi’ tšitiiš, They approached a fruit vender,

“Nkawatat’ii ehaní?” ”Why is there a wall?”

“Ae’ suuš qahašrol.” ”To keep the bad things out.

“Ae’ suuš eep?” ”What bad things?”

“Ae’ suuš, nkawá ná’gašalaní. Gakotsin au’njarire”  Siitšoi tšiwek gajyútiroiš. ”Bad things, that is why we have a wall.  Do not go beyond it or you shall die.”  The vender picked up his cart and moved away.

Ía ni’ganigeeš Still the child looked up at the wall.

“Nkawatat’ii ehaní?” “Why is there a wall?”

At’ šía tšihakšeeš šaiwiš. She asked a woman suckling her child.

“Šánkošol” “To protect us.”

“Šáápnkošušul?” “Protect us from what?”

“Ae suuš. Nkawá ná’gašalaní.  Gakotsin au’njarire.”  Šía tšigautiroiš ”Bad things.  That is why we have a wall.  Don't go beyond it or you shall die.”  The woman took her child and left.

Ía wat’ gategiš, ge’ganisiniš, tšiseengex atssel. The child climbed a tree, peeking out the top, their scarf streaming behind them.

“Nkawatat’ii ehaní?” Anáía peráwadá gatláíš šaiwiš. “Why is there a wall?” They asked another child sleeping in the crook of a branch.

“Nkawá ap?” “What wall?”

Ía dá nkawá gagataniiš The child thrust their finger at the wall.

“Nkawatat’ii kehel.” aná ariš alaš, “gee aprayakel angaš.” “That is not a wall,” The other said drowsily, “that is just the way the sky is over there.”

“Nkawá ehel, yunnkawá.” “It is a wall, a huge wall.”

“Njex garaexelpal.  Gakotsin au’njarit’e.” “It must be there for a reason.  Don't go beyond it or you’ll probably die.

Ááre’oix tšikopeperexel nige’ía. These answers did not satisfy the child who looked up.

Šatsáxe anghudui to’ganjitrois gale utiij e šašatlii u’atli, kendá a’gatiiš a’kogatšgal, ra’ o’amo’xural nkawá’tšut’ amo’gedál. So one night, they snuck from their home with a bundle of supplies while the others slept, and walked to the wall, and it was not dangerous, but the area was always dark in the shadow of the wall.

Nar šiingex gnomal nkawá u’gatšikiiš, rekisi’iš anetšaš gatanil gee getšeegel. The wind played with their scarf as the child stood before the wall, running as far as they could see in either direction, and it seemed to reach the sky.

Nkawá gejijuš.  Dagsinii qalal, pipira, a’qesi’ii, a’rohungátšyágošáátli. They climbed the wall.  There were outcroppings on the wall, ledges, and spikes, and gruesome statues.

Ejijuš u’umutúwi.  U’xutl tš’ihaxáálij tšiseengex gasi’gajišairiš. The climb took days, at night the child would tie themselves a hammock out of their scarf.

Šasatsáxe tániš ná’gee’iixix.  U’tsa’tiš engxaš gagpiriš apmetšíriš, o’ni’íaiš aiwii a’tšijigotoq qa’laa pit’ii. Their village was small from this height.  As they neared the top they began to fear what they would find on the other side.  But they were young, and questions bothered more than fear.

Tsa wikganyuriiš, anára a’giits’iiš. Orhára. So it was that they finally struggled to the top, and could see the other side.  The hidden side. Ía tšidji qiiš, rósunnkawá qaxetenxex tšitadji. The child saw steps.  The far side of the wall was crisscrossed with steps leading down.

Qakaniiš jitšyaš, The child stared at them for a long time,

yaungošáátlišasunnkawá a’at’qagutšiš, qesi’ii, amantlatalaní.  Nkawá suušá gorhel, pirgá. and suddenly the ugly statues on their side of the wall started to make sense, the spears, the way it cast everything into shadow.  The wall did hide something evil, something frightening.

[sannehnagi]

El hek’gasiitšoi’ayuš, dáx a’gaiwaní šigotšeš? Dá’uts’gáxee. /ɛtɬ ˌek'aˈsiːt͡ʃɔɪ̆ʔˈaˌjuʃ dax aʔˌgeɪ̆ʍaˈni ʃiˌgot͡ʃˈɛʃ ˈdaʔʌt͡s'ˈgaˌxeː/ She never asked for a thing in trade, and what is bothersome about asking for nothing?  Sometimes it is given to you.

[sannehnagi]

Atli se’raxatili tsáyuuni. Dax gaxatli a’tš’íali. yunsatsáxe qaxtats’i, rajax, enenhera gatats’i. Átsayúúni iyár at’gagawigae. Hek’eq. The people came her many years ago. They had nothing and they thrived. They built cities, universities, they built an empire. Tonight those many years become a story. They never happened.

[sannehnagi]

Šarii gretšitauše ganjaritšae. /ʃaɾiː grɛt͡ʃitaʊ̆ʃe gãʒaɾit͡ʃeɪ̆/ If you continue to stand in the cold, I assume, you will probably start to die.

[sannehnagi]

Ruq qaxangqejyutitaa.  O’nkatšaq yax, ananutigisa, yáúnétigisa, surhii jíloq. I was scrolling yesterday when I should have been sleeping and saw this “sad post” that really struck me because my despair catches up to me unexpectedly sometimes, and I have worked for a long time to overcome it.  So I translated it because it struck me but doesnt represent me, doesnt hold me like it did.  Only for short times on the bad days. I clawed my way into the light.  But the light was scary too, I would rather quit, I would rather be unhappy, it is too much work.