My child, they say, when boys are born
to an entire generation, we must wait for war.
At a similar time, we had sons –
we rejoiced, all of the matrons of the family,
but dark forms loomed,
there was no calm. My grandmother
saw those forms before the Second
World War when she glimpsed the sign of the cross
in the sky, women, alone,
bearing all of the world’s burdens
on their shoulders. On September 11
You will turn eighteen, and I
watch the skies more nervously, follow
the news in neighboring lands.
And yet, I forgive You for being born, child of war.
I can’t describe how much I’d never want
to have to mark the door of our home
with the blood of a lamb when you return.
My hope is that
you’ll never know how cold steel
weighs on your hands and heart, how you break out in sweat
during sleepless nights counting
the fallen. Is it for You
that I hope for this, or for me?
Still, the most frightening things aren’t bludgeons, phantom
limbs, our faded hair –
the most frightening thing is that we’ll never be rid of
the ghosts of the bare wind, nothing will be
as it once was.
And yet, I let You go, child of war –
My reigns no longer hold back the horses.
Lina Buividavičiūtė was born on May 14, 1986. She is a poet and literary critic. Lina is an author of two poetry books in Lithuanian language. Her poetry is published in "Matter", "Masters", “Proverse poetry prize" contest anthologies, "Drunk monkeys", "Beyond words", "The Dewdrop", "Red noise collective", "The limit experience", "Beyond queer words", "Maudlin House", "Cathexis northwest press", "Poetry online" magazines and "Versopolis". Upcoming publications will appear in “New millennium writings”, "Cathexis northwest press", "Red noise collective", "Sad girls club" and “Beyond words” magazines. These poems are translated from Lithuanian to English by Rimas Uzgiris and Ada Valaitis