BATALIA and BUŁA
Batalia and Buła are already with us!
Batalia and Buła no longer need to fear for their future. The moment they entered our farm, it is already bright and transparent – the quiet, carefree life they deserved. Thanks to you, they won this most important fight together with you. On their behalf, we thank you with all our hearts. Thank you for the life of Batalia and Buła!
Will you stop for a moment on this page? I would like to tell you about horses that no one has ever heard of. You are the first. Get to know them. They bow down low before You. As low as the rope tightened around their heads allows them. Batalia and her daughter Buła. They are fighting for their lives today. It’s all they have. I would also write that they have dignity. But the world has long stripped them of dignity.
Alexander the Great named an Indian city in honour of his black Bucephalus. Piłsudski’s chestnut has gone down in history and has been immortalized in many pictures. Caligula’s horse entered the senate. Probably every child of the world has read about the Hunchback Horse.
Nobody has heard of Batalia nor about her little daughter Buła. They won’t have a legacy. There will be no city named after them, not even a street or even the smallest square. In fact, in a moment they will pass away in complete silence, without media and without anyone’s despair. And no one will hear about them again. But this is what it is like when someone calls you into the world only to sell you to die. Nobody cares about your life. Nor does anyone care about your death. Such a fate. The fate of horses bred for slaughter.
Some say that before we come into this world, we choose our parents and our lives. We choose the people we meet and the experiences we will experience. I look at the little Buła and I wonder what her soul wanted to experience? Did she really want to come here to the earthly valley, only to look deep into the eyes of man and then leave forever?
Buła cuddles up to mother Batalia. She tries to get away for a moment, but seeing that it is a pointless fight – she quietens down, gives up, loses hope and humbly stands by her mother. Eyes staring at nothingness, trembling body, terrified gaze and nose that every now and then plunge into our hands smelling of carrot candy. Because we did not know that Buła like candies. Because candies and what accompanies them are not their world. It’s the distant one.