epitaphs
Original by Patricija Gudeikaitė
Translated, from the Lithuanian, by Dave Seter
for grandmother
again I am a stuttering child
in a dark room, surrounded by
the incomprehensible fear of
ghosts
—Nijolė Miliauskaitė, “Portrait of Uršulė S.”
I.
I saw—
You in a photograph—
you looked like Medea—
after the bloody act
(the photographer—
truly was—
the man responsible for the deed
he reminded me of a butcher:
thick neck—
sniffing like a dog—
bloodshot eyes—
absorbed—
in the posing bodies
he reminded me of a butcher:
I joined the ghosts—
in his dark lens)
II.
You—
always—
advised me—
lie to the priest—
during confession—
you would say:
“the world is a menace”
(world—
is my fright latent—
tangled in my guts—
like tapeworms
I could not permit—
him to place—
the eggs—
that would only multiply—
in Your child’s body)
III.
nights—
while we lay—
in one bed—
You used to sigh—
often repeating:
“you need to fear the living not the dead”
(in Your consciousness—
I am only a ghost:
bruised body—
drooping breasts
but to be honest—
I still pulse
as if they have hired a mourner—
to express my sympathy—
thieves of chrysanthemums from graves—
they have disarmed me)
IV.
we both knew—
that fright—
embodied—
in the shape of rats:
while carving—
a totemic mask—
you used to say—
she will protect you—
from a flood of rats
but rats—
constantly sneered—
in my room:
only, in the traps—
I could never find their corpses
(I used to watch—
while You slept:
Your body—
the way it used to startle—
as you would dream—
of their skeletons—
and red eyes:
truly I knew:
Your dreams—
were contaminated)
V.
we survived—
The Black Death
(the nightmare past—
you carried out—
insect funeral ceremonies:
monitoring—
their floundering—
instinctively—
resisting—
small bodies—
you used to say:
“finally still—
their death always seemed—
a torment”)
VI.
during your funeral—
I considered—
that it should have been me—
in Your place
(but it is true, is it not—
this is just another one of their games:
while they drink wine at Holy mass—
they perform their protocols—
they photograph my remains—
they walk after black hearses—
while we play cards—
and they are unable to hear—
or share—our sharp laughter)
epitafijos
močiutei
vėl esu tas mikčiojantis vaikas
tamsiam kambary, apsupta
nesuprantamos baimės
vaiduoklių
–Nijolė Miliauskaitė, „Uršulės S. portretas“
I.
stebėjau –
Tave fotografijoje –
atrodei lyg Medėja –
po kruvino akto
(fotografas –
buvo tikrasis –
mirties kaltininkas
jis priminė budelį:
mėsingas kaklas –
šuniškas šnopavimas –
pasruvusios akys –
įsisiurbusios –
į pozuojantį kūną
jis priminė budelį:
tapau šmėkla –
tamsiame objektyve)
II.
Tu –
visuomet –
liepdavai –
meluoti kunigui –
per išpažintį –
sakydavai:
„pasaulis yra grėsmė“
(pasaulis –
yra pasyvi baimė –
įsirangiusi viduriuose –
lyg kaspinuotis
negalėjau leisti –
kad jis dėdamas –
kiaušinėlius –
daugintųsi –
Tavo vaikiškam kūne)
III.
naktimis –
kai gulėdavome –
vienoje lovoje –
Tu atsidusdama –
kartodavai:
„bijoti reikia gyvųjų, ne mirusiųjų“
(Tavo sąmonėje –
esu tik vaiduoklis:
pamėlynavęs kūnas –
ir nukarusios krūtys
iš tiesų –
aš pulsuoju
lyg pasamdyta raudotoja –
kuri išreiškusi užuojautą –
vagia nuo kapo chrizantemas –
esu beginklė)
IV.
mes abi žinojome –
jog baimė –
turėjo personifikuotą –
žiurkės pavidalą:
drožinėjant –
totemines kaukes –
sakydavai, jog –
jos saugo –
nuo žiurkių antplūdžio
bet žiurkės –
nuolatos šmirinėdavo –
mano kambaryje:
tik spąstuose –
nerasdavau jų lavonų
(stebėdavau –
Tave miegančią:
Tavo kūnas –
taip krūpčiodavo –
lyg sapnuotum –
jų skeletus –
ir raudonas akis:
gerai žinojau:
Tavo sapnai –
buvo užkratas)
V.
mes išgyvenome –
Juodąją Mirtį
(praėjus košmarams –
atlikinėdavai –
vabzdžių laidojimo apeigas:
stebėdama –
jų spurdančius –
instinktyviai –
besipriešinančius –
kūnelius –
sakydavai:
„jiems sustingus –
mirtis atrodydavo –
lyg rykštė“)
VI.
per Tavo laidotuves –
svarsčiau –
jog tai aš turėjau būti –
Tavo vietoje
(bet juk tai tėra –
tik dar vienas jų žaidimas:
kol jie geria šv. Mišių vyną –
atlikinėja protokolus –
fotografuoja mano palaikus –
eina paskui juodus katafalkus –
mes lošiame kortomis –
ir jie negali girdėti –
šaižaus mūsų juoko)
Dave Seter is a civil engineer and poet, and the author of Don’t Sing to Me of Electric Fences (Cherry Grove Collections, 2021) and Night Duty (Main Street Rag, 2010). He is also an emerging translator of contemporary Lithuanian poetry. His own poetry is informed by his environmental career protecting drinking water in the Eastern United States and healing the scars of mineral extraction in the Western United States.
Patricija Gudeikaitė (b. 1998) is a literary event organizer and young poet. She graduated from the Kaunas Santaros Gymnasium and later earned a professional degree as a florist. Her poetry, bearing motifs of alienation, fringe states, and temporality, deals with themes of mental health, sociopolitics, duality, and ambivalence. Gudeikaitė believes that all art is autobiographical and describes her own poetry as confessional.
Translator’s Note:
I’m of Lithuanian descent on my mother’s side. As a small child in Chicago, I remember my grandfather, a burly man who emigrated from Lithuania to the United States in 1912, ordering vodka martinis in restaurants. He spoke little English and I was frustrated at not being able to understand him. Career and life got in the way until recently when my interest in my heritage resurfaced. My interest was sparked in part by the invasion of Ukraine by Russia, which led me to reflect upon the long history of Lithuanian occupation by Russia. The occupying power banned books written in the Lithuanian language, however, book smugglers kept Lithuanian speaking citizens supplied. Such acts of resistance persisted and led to Lithuania’s independence in 1991. There are many translations of poets of the past who are no longer living. I have chosen to translate the work of contemporary Lithuanian poets because of my interest in contemporary environmental and social issues. I want to hear the voices of the living. I consider myself an emerging translator as one who is learning the language through poetry through a careful process of word for word translation.