- Reklama -

Vidmante Jasukaityte

Who let two foreigners meet,

So that this strange night falling

becomes a homeland in the twinkling of an eye?

Who spins the ways of men

And the threads of life,

Who intentionally or not tangles

The fate lines in the palms,

Every second opening the subterrene vaults of Nubia,

Where through the parched wombs of the women

The offspring of the gods sometimes in a great while emerge

And with wrapped heads

Stretch forth a hand to prayer?

Who makes us face them,

Who stops us at their gaze of infinite profundity?

There is nothing to be seen there anymore”

Only incomprehensible time

Sadly and mysteriously fixes us

in pupils of black.

Along this corridor of gazing

We send an image to one another

As if it were a papyrus, through a different space, under a different sky,

Where it will await us a thousand years from now again.

When the world will no longer be recognizable,

When people will speak another language,

When the offspring of the gods

Will hide themselves in newborn babies and watch the world,


Only the pyramids

Shall stand as they stood,

Shortening the time

And waiting for us.

From the collection “Neiškastam sidabrui pasakyk sudie”[Say Farewell to Unmined Silver], 1999. Vilnius, “Margi raštai” [Mixed Writings]

- Reklama -


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