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Copyright
© 1958 Lithuanian
Students Association, Inc. June, 1958 Vol. 4, No. 2 Managing Editor P. V. Vygantas |
PRIMEVAL LITHUANIA
(Excerpt fom the novel "KELTAS")
Antanas Škėma
The nightingale warbled in an
ancient mode. Jehova had forgotten this country. All his attention
descended on Asia Minor.
...Within impenetrable marches, triangled firs -towers of Lithuanian
temples rose toward the stars. Creeping mists were turning into
shapes: laumės, their braids astray; tiny and tattered kaukai; the
aitvarai whistling through the air; lauksagai and žeme-patys oozing
through the soil. The abstract gods of nature, their shapes changing
every minute.
sang the nightingale. One had only to stand in the thicket to see how
the adders attached themselves to the ground with every pore of their
body, how toads observed the universe with their vaulted eyes. One
needed only to meditate without deliberating. Words were but magic
formulas, incomprehensible and replete with meanings like the shaping
of the mists. All one needed was to contemplate the sharp-tongued
flames of the eternal firethey would light up the towerlike firs, and
the huge immesurable earth was the temple. To be born, to live, to die.
To melt away into the mists, to sit down on the high benches of the
beyond and, sometimes, to roam around the familiar forests and marshes.
And, if sorrow or terror would wander close, there was wood to shape
half-human carvings from and to erect these on the roadsides. A
sorrowful fright carved itself into elongated wrinkles, a shortened
body and the final earthly devotion. These wooden sculptures did not
compete with nature. In the tangled embraces of gnarled stumps, in the
entanglement of branches, in the flow of lakes and rivers one could
recognize these humanized ones. A sad terror enveloped those living.
sang the nightingale.
Honeycombs, ears of rye, rues, tulips and lilies. Sluggish and
sweet-toothed bears. Resin of pine trees-golden amber, the slow suction
of the Baltic foam into the amber sand.