History Poem by Janina Degutyte

History. History is not papyrus rolls,
dried yellow parchments,
not marble on pedestals.
History is etched in the human heart,
in hope, in memory,
in revolutions, revolts,
the stakes of heretics,
the truth of lunatics,
betrayals,
triumphs, scaffolds, crowns,
concentration camps,
the henchman's mark.
All this can be found
in the small and infinite human heart, -
scrawled, hidden, locked, -
in the heart which
beats under your palm,
the heart
which at this very moment
passes by unrecognized.
History. History
is like music,
like the live bell
in the chapel of Vilnius.