Thursday, May 27, 2010
From prehistoric mists...
Dragonflies from prehistoric mists,
flying around long before the ice ages, above shallow water
in the shade of gigantic trees – their clear blue wings fluttering,
growing deeper, slower, rays still shining on them -
such fragile wings, a thousand years old,
vibrating, like rainbow drops,
in the primeval wind – there were no birds is yet,
just the shade of branches, ferns rustling, just, dug in above
the lush coal swamp, flight till then, intoxicating,
lasting but a moment.
(Poem translated from the Lithuanian by Viktoria Skupskelis and Stuart Friebert Literary Review, Fall, 1993)