Edward Mieželaitis

Edward Mieželaitis Poems

Near a rotted old stump
Which the spring water washes
A n old helmet rusts, gaunt,
...

2.

My two feet are set on the globe of the Earth.
My two hands extend to the orb of the Sun.

So between the globe of the Earth
...

1.

Squeezed, like the words in sonnets, in its frame of banks,
obeying canons, flows the river's epic water,
like the events in ageless poems, like the mast
...

What's the sky?
What are stars? Aren't they simply blue eyes?
What's the moon? Not an eyebrow bent like a bow?
Not your features which in my poem arise
...

5.

Have you seen a huge tree ride the wind in a storm?
Flinging all its green branches like wings to the skies,
Yet its breast in the fight with the wind holding firm,
...

Edward Mieželaitis Biography

1923 m. with his parents moved to Kaunas. 1931 - 1935 m. He studied at the Kaunas IV progymnasium later Kaunas III gymnasium. 1935. entered the underground Komsomol organization. 1939 - 1940 m. Vytautas Magnus University and the 1940- 1941 year. Vilnius University to study law. 1940. LYCL elected CC member. In 1940-1941. the newspaper " Komsomol truth " editor. During the Soviet-German war fled to Russia , he worked in Nikolski ( Penza region ) glass factory. 1941- 1944 m. 16 th Lithuanian Riflemen Division of the war correspondent. 1943 - 1946 m. LYCLL secretary. 1946. magazine youth ranks of "editor, and later worked in the magazine " Star " version, with the State's political and literary publishing house . From 1951 m. He worked exclusively literary work. 1954 - 1959 m. SSR Writers' Union Secretary of the Board, 1959- 1970 year. the President. 1960 - 1989 m. LCP member. 1955 - 1963 m. and 1975 -1 989 years. LSSR Deputy, 1975-1989 m. LSSR Presidium of the Vice-President. 1962 -1970 m. Supreme Soviet deputies. He is buried in the Antakalnis cemetery)

The Best Poem Of Edward Mieželaitis

The Helmet And The Dandelion

Near a rotted old stump
Which the spring water washes
A n old helmet rusts, gaunt,
And upon it, audacious,

Like a bold mountaineer
Climbs a wormlet. Nearby
A small bird for a nest
Scans the beach with its eye.

The last ice-splinters melt
And are turned into springs.
But what flower in the grass
To the old helmet clings?

From beneath its steel rim
Peers a frail dandelion.
Stroke its head with your hand -
It's alive - undying...

Translated by Dorian Rottenberg

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