LITHUANIAN QUARTERLY JOURNAL OF ARTS AND SCIENCES
Volume 47, No. 4 - Winter 2001
Editor of this issue: M. Gražina Slavėnas
Copyright © 2001 LITUANUS Foundation, Inc.
Translated by Algirdas & Joan Landsbergis
Dear brother, in my bosom I carry
Father's and mother's graves,
And a third small grave, yours.
On the town's crooked sidewalks
Stars blossomed like yellow dandelions,
And your kite lifted
Along with the doves.
You were going on six,
I was in my third month...
I've outgrown you long since,
Destined to comprehend
What you 'II never grasp.
Yellow dandelions are blooming
And like father once, holding your small hand,
I take you,
Whom I never got to know,