Bukolikos (2024) is the sixth original poetry collection by poet, literary scholar, and translator Erika Drungytė. She made her debut in 1998 with the collection Tiksli žiema (Exact winter), establishing herself as a master of nature and domestic reflection, who’s able to capture moments of everyday life infused with deeper existential insight. Drungytė’s sensitivity to […]
courtyard Athens And what of Easter – already it’s hot in Athens Dust rising to the Parthenon burying marble feet Lost in the foothills of the mountain. The sun outshines everything, Even the most beautiful of church hymns, uplifting the black Folds of bearded priests and monks, when, having left the caves with all their
Lost Gloves When I was a child, my mom sewed a rubber tie onto my gloves so I wouldn’t lose them she did the right thing because later, when there was no one to sew on the rubber ties I always lost them the path of my life is strewn with lost and lonely gloves
Gintaras Grajauskas Read More »
Out of Bounds and Beneath Bridges or, Get Thee under a Bridge! People, cities, and things have no constancy. They change. They are even inclined to change completely, to negate themselves, to slough off their old skin and reemerge anew. I like this aspect of things. It suits me. But, to be more exact, it’s
AUGUSTĖ JASIULYTĖ Born in Vilnius in 1993, Augustė Jasiulytė dropped out of high school, worked as a travelling magnet saleswoman, and as a carpet merchant in Finland, before earning a bachelor’s degree in Scandinavian studies from the University of Vilnius. Her plays Mėžinys and Atgėdinimas won 3rd and 2nd place at the Alytus national theater
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Big Mater. Ona’s Birth. September I was born on a Thursday evening in the fall, in the basement sauna of a four-story apartment block like all of Pašilai’s children. In the stairwell near the mailboxes, Vanda killed a black chicken with a ladle to mark the occasion and boiled a pot of broth right on
“What a great idea for a book that is, to write about How we make ourselves sick. And then we become famous.” (“Narcizai” [“Narcissus”]) Lina Buividavičiūtė (b. 1986) is a poet and the author of three successful confessional poetry books. She’s also a participant in literary readings. When she made her debut, she voiced an
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All children are the same. It’s just that I believe I’m the only one who’s different. Every child in the village had at least several brothers or sisters, sometimes ten or more, whereas I was an only child like the one and only finger left on a carpenter’s hand. After the three-year war our family
The words of Chinese artist Wu Shanzhuan, printed on a tote bag I bought as a gift at Sydney’s White Rabbit Gallery, read: “Everyone has a right to refuse to be an artist.” Everyone also has the right to refuse to be a writer. Darius Žiūra doesn’t hurry in calling himself a writer, either. “I
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*** The water turns clear under blackening sheets of the city. Time de-rusted by waterweed emerald flames. Throw a linen of white on the ramparts, take pity Let an underground serpent approach you, shedding its scales. Slow he slivers through Baroquan church carcasses Across toothless skulls of the town of ye old Like a funeral
Mindaugas Kvietkauskas Read More »
