- Reviews
Valdas Papievis, Ankančiam pasauly (In a Blinding World)
By Airidas Labinas
- Poetry
don’t think about dust
or about
what we turn into
the ghost ship will sail
full of darkness
in its hold
- Fiction
I feel the sea with my fingers, feet, ankles, barely swirling – the waves aren’t breaking today. The water slowly envelops my body, as if I am sinking into a well with walls into infinity – where is this feeling from which I am returning?
- Poetry
In my earliest memory
I’m six months old.
Father lays me down on a black duvet
with white polka dots.
- Reviews
Mindaugas Nastaravičius, Antra dalis: eilėraštis (Part two: a poem)
By Linas Daugėla
- Poetry
the mind becomes more mindful
and sight remains insightful
night draws nigh as day recedes
and what is heavy has been heaved
- Essays
I contemplate old age now, while I still can, while I am still capable of recording its features, while I can still see its spies.
- Reviews
Marius Burokas. Seismografas (Seismograph).
By Ugnė Žemaitytė
- Poetry
Dangerous times. Strange days.
No matter when you leave home – it's night.
Night and the flames of camp stoves in the sky
As if a crowd of tourists had waded
Into a forest glade.
- Poetry
The body is my news.
Everything is written there that others need to know.
And they need to know that what I experienced
is not so easy to forget.
