I'LL CUT OUT A STICK

I'll cut out a stick,
A hazelwood wand,
And set off to roam
Through my native land.

Every inch of soil
I'll lovingly kiss.
In every cottage
I'll be a guest.

With everyone else
A scythe I'll wield,
With everyone wait
For the morning meal.

I'll find out the thoughts
Of wood and dell,
And why tonight
You didn't sleep well.

And then in my heart
I'll make up a song;
Through the  world like me
Let it roam along.

Translated by Dorian Rottenberg


* * *

The rain pours like cats and dogs.
The bird-cherry rustles, wet.
Ah, could it have happened
That yesterday
I held her so close that I'll never forget...

Was it she indeed who whispered to me
That I'm
Her very own dear?
Was it from her big, downcast eyes
That there rolled a silver tear?..

That evening – it was so warm.
A hush
Up to the sky's very end.
I felt a bridge that couldn't be seen
Between our two hearts extend.

Kiss me, darling,
It isn't worthwhile
To ask who I am and from where I came.
Because of your tender kisses
I've even forgotten my name.

Ah, yesterday!
But today – these shadows
Under the eyes. By themselves they close.
Again my name I remember
As I put on my mud-soiled clothes.

I walk along,
And it's cold in my soul.
Why, wind, do you ruffle my hair?
On the hard asphalt, black as coal,
Raindrops burst angrily everywhere.

Translated by Dorian Rottenberg


* * *

I drift away from you like steamers sail
Away from shores that hide behind a mist.
After the first intoxication's gone
I understand things well – the very gist.

I understand: back in the greying port
There was no happiness, nor would there be.
I was deluded by your tender cheeks.
Your white arms cast a sleeping spell on me.

Your beauty's witchcraft holds me in its grip.
It's still too hard, too early to break free.
Long will I yet keep thinking where you are
And sigh after your grey eyes secretly.

Long will I angrily accuse myself
That I did not attack you like a storm,
Fly up, embrace you, carry you away,
Drench you with ocean water, salt and warm.

But on your lips there's that same crooked smile,
And you're stranger to my heart once more.
And so I drift away from you like ships
That sail away from mist-enveloped shore.

Translated by Dorian Rottenberg


AUTUMN EQUINOX

Now night and day are equal. In between, 
Halfway between the two of them I stand.
I stretch my left hand out towards the moon,
And to the sun I stretch out my right hand.

Both light and darkness I can understand
Half in the light, half in the darkness standing.
A moment when they cannot feel offence,
Neither the morning, nor the twilight evening.

The equinox quite equally divides
Two realms – the realm of day and that of night.
The future and the past have their domains
Also divided equally tonight.

For a brief interval day equals night,
Joy equals grief, like vein and artery.
Wherever we cast eyes it is the same:
All things obey the law of symmetry.

Man's heart alone does not obey that law,
As if it would not mingle with the crowd,
It stays on the left side until the end,
Uncompromising, independent, proud.

Translated by Dorian Rottenberg


CIRCUS

I'll poke my head into the lion's maw,
Ride tigers, dance with elephants in circles.
Only the word will still remain untamed.
It will be hard to train it for the circus.

It will not want to balance on a wire,
Walk on its hands and vault and jump and juggle.
The word more often makes a poet dance
Then vice versa; they are locked in struggle.

So let's not try to train words for the circus.
Leave them to graze in meadows as before.
While we ride tigers, dance with elephants in circles
And poke our heads into the lion's maw.

Translated by Dorian Rottenberg


I AM THE ONE WHO'LL BE THE EXCEPTION

I am the one who'll be the exception. 
It seems to me I can avoid disease. 
Try shooting at me –  
You are sure to miss. 
Try pushing me over a precipice –  
I don't know now, 
But I am certain somehow 
To find a chance support and cling to it. 
I am the one who'll be the exception. 
Imposing, free-born, youthful, strong 
I'll roam the country far and wide, and everyone 
I'll choose to love shall love me too. 
My foes will never trick me into wrong, 
My friends will always be sincere and true. 
I am the one who'll be the exception. 
With beaming smiles I'll greet all folks 
And they'll smile back, 
They all shall see 
I am the one without an equal, 
A person you cannot ignore – that's me! 
No death awaits me on my way and no deception. 
I am the one who'll be the exception. 
What are you smiling at, my friend?
I guess you think we two are birds of a feather?
That's not surprising – we both are young
And by the magic spell of youth are bound together.

Translated by Lionginas Pažūsis


NIGHT COLOURS

The colours melt in evening shadows.
The Painter Day goes off to bed
And here comes Night, a gifted draughtsman,
Who uses jet-black ink instead...

Only the sky still glows with colour... 
Upon its thick and dark blue velvet 
Like grains of amber stars are twinkling 
And in the sombre lake below 
Are seen their less distinct reflections: 
So vague, so pale – like drops of paint 
Spilt on the water from a height... 
Such is the palette of the night.

That's why again I turn my eyes
To where the sun will shortly rise...

Translated by Lionginas Pažūsis

 
UNDERGROUND RIVERS

Alas, these rivers have no names. 
No banks have they to shape their frames.

They don't reflect the floating sky, 
In gloom by day and night they lie.

A wild sea-mew will never sweep
Across their waters running deep

Nor will a maiden ever chance 
To see dawn glow on their expanse.

Yet their dim waters, cool and clear, 
Feed wells and fountains far and near.

In summer drought or winter frost 
Their patient streams are never lost.

Oppressed by darkness, now and then 
The waters try to leave their den.

In dense dark forest look around: 
A spring is bubbling from the ground.

Translated by Lionginas Pažūsis

 
A SONG OF LONGING

I know you forgot all, 
Don't think any more. 
You write me no letters, 
Nor wait as before.

          Destroy all the bridges 
          And roads on my way, 
          But one sandy pathway 
          To me leave, I pray.

Beyond seas and oceans, 
A long way away, 
A little lone pine-tree 
Sways all night and day.

          Wipe out the whole forest, 
          Uproot all the trees, 
          But that little pine-tree, 
          Please, leave where it is.

Off all that I cherish
Bereave me one day,
The sun and the moonlight
You may take away.

          Shriek out like a sea-gull
          And leave me in pain.
          But love, only love, please,
          Allow to remain.

Translated by Lionginas Pažūsis

 
AS LONG AS I CAN SEE THE TREES 

As long as I can see the trees,
     those woods belong to me.
As long as birds my ear can please,
     their songs belong to me.

As long as in the grass I stride,
     those fields belong to me. 
As long as you are by my side,
     love too belongs to me.

As long as hands are strong enough,
     some bread belongs to me. 
As long as windows are lit up,
     my home belongs to me.

A dreary winter will come round,
     soon I with birds shall flee, As long as I can tread the ground,
     this land belongs to me.

Translated by Lionginas Pažūsis

Born in the village of Strazdiškis, Algimantas Baltakis spent his childhood in Kaunas. In 1954 he graduated from the department of history and philology at Vilnius University. The same year he joined the editorial staff of Pergalė (Victory), a cultural and literary monthly, becoming editor-in-chief in 1964. He also worked as Secretary of the official Lithuanian Writers' Union. His first book of verse came out in 1955. The poet is remarkable for his trusting frankness about the main issues of his generation and his ironical confessions. His poems are marked by an impulsiveness of feeling and melodious form close to the tradition of Salomėja Neris. Baltakis has established himself as a pensive poet of city life.