Gražina Kelmelytė, Motinos (Mothers). Vilnius: Lietuvos rašytojų sąjungos leidykla, 2­025, p. 172.
by Karolina Bagdonė

 

Photo by Sonata Noreikienė

Acceptance Speech for the Most Creative Book of the Year, 2025
given by the Institute of Lithuanian Literature and Folklore

By Marius Burokas

Rimantas Kmita, Editos kompleksas: Normalūs žmones nesišypsa (The Edita Complex: Normal People Don’t Smile). Vilnius: Tyto alba, 2025, p. 328.
by Rimas Uzgiris

Photo by Laura Vansevičienė

These days, everything seems to be about what to buy and where to sell. If someone writes a novel about this time, then it’ll be full of undies, panties, bras, and these peeps who search for Italian quality at the price of peanuts.

Photo from personal archive

I had never seen Jonas up close before, so I studied him with curiosity. He differed from the others of his kind. His face was different, I decided. His hair was reddish, his skin pale and lightly freckled.

Photo by Dirk Skiba

we are love in pure form
we are love unconstrained by the notions of time and space
we shine on in the dark
like the source, like the sea
that we finally enter

Photo by Laura Vansevičienė

I sank into my reading. Before long, as I was turning page after page, to my own surprise I felt how all those powerful feelings – fear, superstitious forebodings and madness – quickly and easily drew me into their whirlpool, and I was astonished to find something I had always known was there but had not experienced for a long time rising in me: the truest, most natural sensations long forgotten, coming alive and freeing themselves.

Kristina Tamulevičiūtė, Namai (Home)
By Ugnė Žemaitytė

Photo by Arūnas Sartanavičius

In my opinion, poetry has to provide an answer to our difficult era, though usually it does this in a very indirect way.

Photo by Mindaugas Mikulėnas

Every night, every day, and every night
I listen while wandering without aim,
But wake to find myself again in sight
Of everything that still remains the same.

Photos by Dirk Skiba and Lina Macevičienė

both of us are poets with a sense of responsibility (only it manifests mostly through poetry), and that is why we wrote what we wrote

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