Uladzimir Nyaklyayew announced the release of his most anticipated book in Poland

“Over the past four years that I have been living and writing (which is one and the same for me) in Poland, eight of my books have been published by various publishers. (At home, there wouldn't be a single one – and that is the only reason why I am not there, but here),” he wrote.

“The book of dramatic poems 'Litviny' is the most anticipated of all the new books. This is a tribute of my respect and love to my blood relatives from Kreva, to my grandfathers and distant ancestors, the Mahers, who were participants in the events described in the book. These are my relatives, which gave me the right to present those events not as historical chronicles, but as a personal, family history, in which the figures of Gediminas, Algirdas, Kęstutis, Vytautas, Jogaila, heroes of those times, creators of two powerful European states of that era: the Grand Duchy of Lithuania (GDL) and the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, rise vividly.

What they accomplished is assessed differently by various historians, but my assessment is not so much historical as it is human: I love them and look at them from the depths of love. But this does not mean blindly: I see in them both the human and the beastly within a person: love allows me to see everything. As a witness to those events, who testifies as follows in the drama 'Gediminas':

It's bitter for me to be a witness in Kreva Castle.
I came into the world here — and here on all the hills
Are the barefoot traces of my childhood…
In grandmother's small bag then
A squirrel brought me nuts.

Time flows like smoke over those hills.
It flows, it flows between Moscow and Rome
Just as it flowed under Gediminas,
As it flowed under all those killed by Gediminas,
And flowed over those who killed him.

Here the bare earth looked naked through the smoke,
As war after war spun its cycle on it,
They came, they came — and could not leave,
Here even stones were ground
So finely that not a grain of sand can be found!

Everything was here... But not everything came to pass…
Here people lived like stalks of grain under a sickle,
And when they were swept away, like dust by the wind,
Not only did they themselves not remain —
Not even their graves remained.

Like ripples from water, they left the earth,
And everyone would forget who they were here,
Princes, warriors, their own or strangers —
But there is a land where they all lived,
And there is a people created by them!

From their plow — deep furrows.
They plowed the field — for later,
After themselves — for us,
for those — who follow us,
Therefore, the earth itself remembers them here
With ancient grey burial mounds.

Павялічыць

P.S.

The presentation of the book of dramatic poems "Litviny" will take place at 7 PM on November 13 in Warsaw: ul. Zielna, 39 (4th floor) as part of the "Pradmova" festival in Warsaw.

Katsiaryna Vadanosava and Vasil Kalach will participate in the presentation, performing a scene from the drama "Jogaila," — wrote Uladzimir Nyaklyayew.

• 0
• 0
• 0
• 0
• 0
• 0
• 0
• 0