ANYK  I
ILELIS
|
THE ANYKSCIAI GROVE |
| Antanas Baranauskas | trans. Peter Tempest - from Lithuanian |
Kalnai kelmuoti, pakaln s nuplike!Kas j  s gro ei senobinei tiki?Kur toj puikyb js pasidjo?Kur ramus j s imas nuo vjo,Kai balto mi ko lapeliai lamjoIr senos pu ys siravo, brakjo?Kur j s pauk iai, paukteliai, pauktyts,Katr ilbani teip ramu klausytis?Kur j s vrys, gyvuliai, vreliai?Kur vr olos, lauai ir urveliai?Visa prapuole; tik ant lauko pliko Kelios pu els apykraivs liko!..Skujom, akelm ir ikom nuklotaKepina saul nenaudinga plota,In kur  irint teip neramu regis:Lyg tartum r mas suires, nudeges,Lyg kokio miesto i griuvus pstyn,Lyg kokio raisto apsvilus kimsyn ! ...Mi kan, bdavo, eini - tai net ak veria;Vat teip linksmina d ia, au irdies tveria,Kad net, irdiai apsalus, ne karta dmojai:Ar mi ke a ia stoviu, ar danguj, ar rojuj?!Kur tik iri, vis grau: alia, liekna, gryna!Kur tik uostai, vis miela: giria nos trina!Kur tik klausai, vis linksma: lama, ia, siaudia!Ka tik jauti, vis ramu: ird glosto, griaudia!..........  kvpimas, jau ka gi! ia sakais pueli,ia vjelis dvelkteli su kvapu iedeli:Jauti pievos dobila, balta ir raudona, Jauti ramunes, brus - oleles dirvon;Jauti i juodo kapiaus skruzdlyno kvapa,Ir i medi, i skuj, i ik, i lapVis kitoki kv palai: kaip vjelis dvelksi,Ko no karto kitokiu kvapu usivelgsi.ia samanos su brukniom ileliu upluko;ia medio ied kvapas - lyg sodas pratrko.Tartum mi kas kvpuoja nelyginant vris:Savo kvapus po laukus kaip berte pab res,Laukais, pievom atgauna. - Viduj pu ynliJauti sau gra iai kvapa dirv ir pieveli.Ir teip visa sumin a, vjeliu praskysta,Kad nei nosis i kvap vis nepasta;Tik tartum giria, pieva ir laukas sustare, I brangiausi kvpal miin padare,Dievui ant garb s rko teip ramiai, teip meiliai,Lyg kad skripkuoja, juokias, gieda, verkia gailiai, tie balsai visoki teip krvon susiaudia,Kad j skyrium neymu, - tik ird griaudia........... Kas ten lama? - vju papstas lapelis,gi gtoj nubudes sujuda pauktelis.Kas ten tre ka? - vilkas: diena mat auodia,I naktins medions par pakrmes skuodia.gi lap int ola, asioka intskandus,gi barsiukas bga, ilindes i landos;gi linksmut stirna par puyna striuoksi;gi puin i puies voveryt liuoksi;gi mat irmuonlis ir kiaun juodoja,Ir visoki vreliai po mika ulioja.Kas ten tauk i? - stuobr kapoja genelis.Kas mekena? - gi mat perkno oelis.Kas ten nibda? - nypia i kelmo piktoja,gi srove tekena upel ventoja.Ai b davo, bdavo i ms ilelioDid iausio patogumo, graaus ramumlio! tas visas ramumas po lietuvi dias,Lyg lygumoj v jelis po oleles tr ias,Plaukydamas lingavo, tamsiom vilniom tvino, Da nai mike lietuvis, ko verkia, neino. tik junta daniausiai, kad irdis neskaudia, tik pilna pajaut labai ramiai griaudia:Ir lyg rasos emigais gausiai atgaivinta,Ir lyg rasa par veid aarls krinta.Paskum ilgai kr tinj ilelis kvpuoja;Atsidus s krtin lyg giria linguoja.Lyg tarytum ramumas teip d ion slinko,Kad net d ia kaip varpa pribrendus nulinko.I to, matai, aaros ir atsidusimas,I to ventos pajautos, i to giesms imas.Dabar visa prapuol  ... tik ant lauko plikoKelios kraivos, nuskurd puelyts liko ............. Lietuvnykas po urvus sausus lau us krs.Ne lentin s, i aku buv pintos durys.Ir nei vieno liemenio lietuviai nekirt ,J g tik stuobriai papuv savaimi ivirt,Nes ir mi kas lietuv, kaip tiktai galjs,Teip visados ramin s, visados myljs:Z+v rim, paukiais ir vaisiais dengs ir penjs,Ir neprieteli muti gridamas padjs;Sunkioj dienoj duodav s slaptus nuo baisybi,Li dnoj dienoj paveiksl visoki ramybi,Linksmoj dienoj daugum visoki graybi,Ko nam mete dl kono - visoki gerybi.Sunkios dienos at j, mons badu mir,Samanas duonon kep , ieves sriubon vir.Teip moneles, i bado ievm papentus,Kad u tiksiant pavietris! - ir labai pakrtus.Mi kas moni pasgails, rasa apsiverks,Auk tas savo virnes debesin merksIr su uks: "Broliukai, ginkits nuo bado!Palaiminta toj ranka, k kirv irado!"Su a arom pirmieji truput praskyn,Vaitodami j vaikai teip gyn tvyn;D saudami ankai tuos mikus aikvoj,Proan kiai veimais miestelin veioj;Po keturias de imtis veim pardav,D iaugdavsi, ant dienos po mutin gav.Med iai mat i daugybs visikai atpig.Ir teip ilgai aikvoj , - net kolei pristig; tai vis dl arielkos daugiausia ileid:Visi buv kaip yd eimyna pasleid.Tai mat m s tveliai miku neberadIr terp sav s kaip broliai visi susiad -A leist dirvas ileliui. Mat miko pasilg,Da nai savo blakstienas aarom suvilg,Z+i rdami in kelmus. Mat lietuvi dios,Senais mi kais pentos, viduj miko trios;Plikuos plotuos, be mi ko, lyg tartum apkursta,Tartum d ista nuo sauls ir palengvl skursta.Nors jau dabar lietuvis plikuos plotuos gimsta, Giesm j mik ugirds, be jo neberimsta.Sen mikai mylta, tlon giesmn dta:M s tveli visos tos giesms mokta.Tai mat, mi ko pasilg, aukljo ilel:Kasdien apvaik tinjo kon pakratlIr, priugd kaip meldo graiausio puyno,Jaunas irdis ir dias vaikeli ramino.Ir saugojo kas diena kaip did iausio labo:Ne til med io, - nelau nei maiausio abo.D iaugs Anykiai, diaugs, in il irjo,Svetimuos mi kuos malk pirkt vainjo.Atva iavo kumeistras, il apirjo,Ravus ant keli kas, liesvinius padjo,Ir pagani agyn, ir grybaut agyn;Slapta pardavin jo ir par naktis skyn;Vyresnybei melavo; monms, kai verk,Nasrus kam kulokais, kraujo klanan merk,Ir kas metai Anyk ius miko kuopt var;I pstjs iinto, zasiekus padar ...Ir liko itie kalnai pliki ir kelmuotiAplaistyti a arom, giesme apdainuoti.Ir giesm nepabaigta: kai irdis susopo,Ant d ios labai sunku ir neramu tapo.Mat toj pati galyb , k mikus sugrau,ird, di apgriuvo ... ir giesm nulau. |
Stump-littered hillocks, desolate and bare, Can anyone believe you once were fair? Where are your former charms? Where did they go? Where is your humming when the wind would blow And toss the white-wood foliage to and fro And rock your pines, as centuries ago? Where are your birds and nestlings to be found Whose chirping such contentment spread all round? Where are your living creatures large and small, The burrows and the lairs that housed them all? All, all has gone: in the deserted plain A few disfigured pines alone remain. With needle, cone and twig the earth is strewn - A barren waste the sun bakes hard in June, A sight the soul views with as much distress As ruined palaces rank weeds possess, Or heaps of rubble where a town once teemed, Or bone-dry moss where marshland softly gleamed. Once walking here you found your eyes would ache: The forest would your soul so merry make, Your heart so glad you wondered in surprise: Where am I - in a wood or Paradise? All that surrounds you with such beauty glows! With every scent the forest woos your nose And lively sounds you hear in every part. You sense a deep calm soothing to the heart. What scents abound! Pine resin fills the air. The scent of flowers gentle breezes bear. In clearings white-red clover, camomile And thyme with fragrance rare your nose beguile. The presence of an anthill you can tell. Leaf, needle, pine-cone have a different smell Each time you pass. A breeze however slight Will bring new scents each time for your delight. Here's aromatic cranberry and moss. Here orchard-blossom scents you come across. The forest like a living creature breathes: The nearby field and meadowland it wreathes In fragrance, while among its pines in turn The scents of field and meadow you discern. All mingle in the air, so thick they come Your nose cannot distinguish every one. It is as if wood, meadow, field combine Their richest scents to make a perfume fine Which to God's glory they are offering As they together sigh, rejoice and sing. Their voices weave a hymn of many parts To touch with perfect harmony our hearts. How fine are forest sounds, not only scents! The forest hums, resounds with eloquence, While midnight brings a silence that is so Profound you hear each leaf and flower grow, Hear tree to tree in gentle whispers call, Each star through heaven move, each dewdrop fall. The heart is hushed. Such peace reigns everywhere The soul soars heavenward in quiet prayer. But when the new day dawns with gleaming brow And blades of grass, dew-laden, earthward bow The forest wakens, night-time silence flees And day again resumes its melodies. That rustle? It's a leaf the breeze has stirred Or, stirring in its nest, a waking bird. That crackling? It's a homebound wolf who, loath To hunt by day, breaks through the undergrowth. A captured duck the fox bears to his lair, A badger scurries from his burrow there, A roe bounds past, a squirrel neatly takes A flying leap onto a bough that shakes, A stoat or marten rummages about - The forest creatures are all up and out. There was a time, a time when beauteous calm The forest breathed, our hearts to soothe and charm. For Lithuanians relish calm and ease As lush grass relishes a gentle breeze That stirs dark ripples as it passes by: We often weep in woods, not knowing why. For it is there we feel a pain is eased, The heart soothed and anxiety appeased; Warm tears born of a sentiment unique Come rolling then like pearl dew down the cheek. Long afterwards our lungs breathe the forest air, Our breast as gently stirs as pines do there. Such deep tranquillity pervades the soul It bows as wheatears do when ripe and whole. This is the source from which our tears and sighs, Our solace and our poetry arise. Now all has gone ... In the deserted plain A few disfigured pines alone remain. Our folk have always lived at one with trees And know few closer lifelong friends than these. With windfalls only would they heat their hut, Plait doors from branches, no boards would they cut And no ax to a trunk they ever laid Unless the tree already was decayed. In turn the forest soothed and gave delight, Loved Lithuania's folk with all its might. It clothed and fed them, sheltered them as well, To bar the way to enemies it fell, In evil days - a refuge from our foes, In time of grief - a place of sweet repose, In happy days its charms it would unfold, At all times granting blessings manifold. Then hard times came. Of hunger people died, Made bark soup, baked their bread with moss inside. Such starving folk who hardly eat at all In time of plague like trees will reel and fall. The forest pitied them, dew tears it shed And wet its crowns in grey clouds overhead. "My starving brothers all!" it cried. "Fight back! A blessing on the hand that wields an ax!" They wept, did those who first a few trees felled. Their children groaned - the ax salvation spelled. Their children's children sighed, cut more trees down. Their great-grandchildren carted logs to town And when to market forty loads they sent Rejoiced, assured of one day's nourishment. With timber so abundant prices fell. They sold until there was not much to sell. Whatever money they received they drank And into ways of dissolution sank. And so no forest did our fathers find, Yet found they were like brothers of one mind To save land for the trees for which they pined, So sorely bitter tears would their eyes blind On viewing stumps: for Lithuanian souls Whom forest beauty nurtures and consoles In treeless bleak expanses run to seed, They wither and expire in sorest need. Our treeless generation from old songs Learns forest lore and for a forest longs. Our folksong from a love of trees has grown And all the songs were to our fathers known. So now a pinewood patiently they reared And in their loving labors persevered. They raised a handsome pine grove, dense as reeds. The young at heart and children were well pleased. Such care of their new grove did people take No twig, however tiny, would they break. Anyksciai town rejoiced - the trees looked good - And people went elsewhere for firewood. Then came a forester who toured the site, Dug ditches, posted watchmen day and night, Barred grazing, mushroom picking... He seemed strict But on the sly sold wood and mushrooms picked. He lied to his superiors; when folk Complained he punched them and their teeth he broke. He rooted pinetrees up year after year And soon there was again a wasteland here - Bare hills with stumps are all that now remain, For which we weep and sing our sad refrain. Unfinished is my lay: such pain at heart Lies heavy on the soul and makes it smart. That force which gnawed the forest for so long Assailing heart and soul ... curtails my song. |
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