The Poetic Bricks of Vilnius

Vilnius is usually considered to be the city of Gediminas, but it would be very unfair not to mention Vytautas the Great. After all, it was Vytautas, not Gediminas, who built the brick castle on the hill. That is why his statue stands at the foot of the hill on the territory of the Lithuanian National Museum. It was erected in 2017, based on the plaster sculpture by Vytautas Kašuba that adorned the Lithuanian pavilion at the 1939 New York World’s Fair. Justinas Marcinkevičius’s poem ‘Vytautas’ Sword’ rings with Vytautas’s wrath in this place.

Justinas Marcinkevičius ‘Vytautas’ Sword’ From the collection ‘From Vilnius to Vilnius’ Compiled by Aidas Marčėnas, Lithuanian Writers’ Union Publishing House, Vilnius, 2008.  

He was severe

But he sought to be fair.

Without hesitation 

He beheaded a thief or a robber.

Sometimes he called himself

The protector of the weak.

On the shield 

He used to bake bread,

He would hand it out

Like castles and parishes.

Lightning,

piercing through the darkness of Lithuania

and he himself stuck in it.

Here is the man,

Leaning against the lightning. 

Dedicatory and commemorative poems were penned about the Grand Dukes of Lithuania, especially to celebrate the arrival of the rulers in Vilnius. The poems by the Vilnius Jesuit Academy are among them. In the courtyard of the Palace of the Grand Dukes, we can recall Stephen Báthory and the poems dedicated to him by the pupil of Jesuit Academy – Jurgis Kalas. The poems call for rejoicing at the arrival in Vilnius of the ruler who defeated the Muscovites. The young people of the Vilnius Academy of the Society of Jesus also greeted Władysław Vasa and his wife Marie Loise Gonzaga. In modern times, lyrical prose has come into being without being commissioned by a customer. In the poetry of Judita Vaičiūnaitė we hear the voices of Mikołaj ‘the Black’ Radziwiłł and Mikołaj ‘the Brown’ Radziwiłł, Elizabeth of Habsburg, and Barbara Radziwiłł. 

For interest, here we can share the joy expressed in verse by an unknown Jesuit at the arrival in Vilnius of King Władysław Vasa and his wife, Ludwika Marija.

The Spring of Lukiskės. VILNIUS CITYSCAPE.  ‘VILNIUS GREETING’, A COLLECTION OF TEXTS FROM the 16-18th Centuries. The Institute of Lithuanian Literature and Folklore. Vilnius University. 2001.

Nymphs of the Vilija, let’s glorify more honourable things

The garden grew in glory and the greater pleasure of Home,

April has overtaken the riches and joys of May

The Vilija rushes swiftly with her banks rebounding the wave 

And salutes the flower of kings and queens. 

She carries dear names to the faraway lands,

Her waters will forever glorify Stanyslaw

And with a booming voice shall praise Queen Luise.

Vilnius Cathedral has been celebrated in poetry since ancient times. The same Jesuit students dedicated their poems to St. Casimir. Peter Roizio, a Spanish courtier of Sigismund Augustus, composed epitaphs for Elizabeth of Habsburg (Sigismund Augustus’ first wife), and later, for Barbara Radziwiłł. He wrote epigrams for the ruler – King of Poland and Grand Duke of Lithuania. He did not shy away from making fun of the ills of Vilnius in his poems. 

A VIEW OF THE CITY OF VILNIUS ‘VILNIUS GREETING’, A COLLECTION OF TEXTS FROM THE 16-18th CENTURIES. Institute of Lithuanian Literature and Folklore. Vilnius University. 2001.

Famine is terrible, so is disease, and even more horrible robber,

Ravaging the houses, crossroads and temples of Vilnius.

These evils wander together, sowing corpses around.

You ask, how can we defeat them or expel them?

For famine is food, and the worst diseases are cured by medicine,

There is no justice here to punish the robber alone. 

Translated into Lithuanian by Eugenija Ulčinaitė. 

Grand Duke Gediminas of Lithuania has been the absolute master of Vilnius throughout the ages, as he is in Justinas Marcinkevičius’s poem ‘Gediminas: Nostra Vilna’. Gediminas invited people from other lands to come and create Vilnius together, as in Judita Vaičiūnaitė’s poem cycle ‘Castle’, while Kazys Bradūnas, interviewed the Duke in his poem cycle ‘Conversations with the King/DUKE?’,

Justinas Marcinkevičius ‘Gediminas: Nostra Vilna’ From the collection ‘From Vilnius to Vilnius’. Compiled by Aidas Marčėnas. Lithuanian Writers’ Union Publishing House, 2008 Vilnius.  

to lay a stone by a stone

to put a bale on a log

brick to brick

will this already be Vilnius?

To lock the gates, put up a guard

perch on a stake pole

the decapitated head of a robber

or is that still not Vilnius yet?

but the most important thing is to make a fire

and keep it from being blown out

by all the east west winds

and when will you you you

with your hands clasped and your shoulders huddled

protect your own fire

from foreign robbers and plunders of your own 

then I will also be able to shout

to all countries worldwide

in Latin:

NOSTRA VILNA!

of course, for the city to be Vilnius

I still need to see in a dream

an iron wolf howling

and upon waking up, not to kill it

As you walk through Cathedral Square, remember that it was once surrounded by walls and rivers and that most of its buildings have been demolished. We have restored the square’s old name and Vladas Braziūnas wrote about it when it was still named after Grand Duke Gediminas and was called ‘Gedimino Square’. The poet mentions the little child being carried across the river; here, he is referring to the one from the Vilnius city coat of arms. 

Vladas Braziūnas ‘Gedimino Square’. From the collection ‘From Vilnius to Vilnius’.

Compiled by Aidas Marčėnas. Lithuanian Writers’ Union Publishing House, Vilnius, 2008.  

at the river mouth – a castle

European roads will be rain-drenched 

on the steep slopes of the riverbank

a disobedient spirit will surge

two rivers flow round

around and remembering the response

terraces – the graves of gluttonous greed

o holy one, thou hast become sin

armour and crosses, however, treachery

crosses them by the ford of the Neris

and through the glacial forests

drives their baptism into the lagoon

the core of the city thus born

let the old Lord visit it

carry the child to the other bank

and entrust him to me evermore 

Judita Vaičiūnaitė has put together the colours of Vilnius University in a cycle of poems ‘Stained Glass for Vilnius University’. The University’s printing house, philomaths, and the painter Jan Rustem are all here… Let’s go up to the stars from the University’s old observatory or enjoy the poems of Maciej Kazimierz Sarbiewski. And then let’s go to the first Botanical Garden of Vilnius University. 

From the series ‘Stained Glass for Vilnius University’, Artists. From the collection ‘Gatvės laivas’, Vilnius, ‘Vyturys’, 1991.

And the janitor unlocks that lecture hall too,

and wipes the dust from the easels,

the plaster sculptures glisten in the sun; the heads of Romans and Greeks stare

In the studio of Franciszek Smuglewicz –

students and curious townspeople will soon gather, 

let them take their seats, 

let them into the drawings yellowed by time, and immortalise the streets of Vilnius,

before Napoleon’s soldiers cross them, 

while the ruins of medieval walls and gates still loom there, 

while the horsemen of Antakalnis keep riding…

I want to see the colour of the draperies, 

to hear the speeches and laughter of the students,

to watch the dark-haired Jan Rustem

bring a young poser in off the street, 

to see the spring shining in a column of dust,

the gates open up again in watercolour, 

like a scrap of old velvet

wipes the red oil of the sun from the canvas…

If we walk from the university to the Church of the Holy Cross (Bonifratres), we may still see the tree described in J. Vaičiūnaitė’s poem ‘Chestnut Tree by the Bonifratres Church’. The poem was written during the Soviet era, when this church was turned into a concert hall. However, even in Soviet times, people knew that there was a miraculous spring flowing under the church.

Judita Vaičiūnaitė ‘Chestnut Tree at the Bonifratres Church’ from the collection ‘Gatvės laivas’, Vilnius, ‘Vyturys’, 1991.

I feel that it is autumn,

that golden Byzantine background,

where a secret burning paints the trees of the landscape,

where a tall chestnut tree is finally gilded in the sun

in the alley to the Bonifratres church,

prays to the underground spring,

to a voice of depth and ecstasy – 

longing breaks through the layer of grief again, 

but the people in that gold are like an iconostasis, 

but the flames of candlesticks of the trees will not be extinguished

in the alley to the Bonifratres church, where the music, 

where, as the gold darkens, the muslin slips away like mist.

Let’s go back to Pilies (Castle) Street, more precisely to number 10. Kazys Bradūnas lived here during the Second World War, and the university across the street was home to Lithuanian language promoters from Konstantinas Sirvydas to Vincas Mykolaitis-Putinas. In 1822, Kazimierz Kontrym, the university’s librarian, proposed the establishment of a Lithuanian language department, where Lev Karsavin, who had escaped from the Bolsheviks, taught. The Ukrainian poet Taras Shevchenko lived in this house for a while, and the lyrical Antanas Šabaniauskas spent the last years of his life here. K. Bradūnas dedicated a poem to this house. 

‘Pilies 10’ From the collection ‘From Vilnius to Vilnius’ Compiled by Aidas Marčėnas Lithuanian Writers’ Union Publishing House, Vilnius, 2008.  

Yes.

This is Pilies 10.

Entrance from the courtyard

And a room above the arch.

It’s inhabited,

For there are geranium blooms in the window.

From here I used to

Just stride across the street –

To reach my second home,

The homeland of science,

Where we listened to the immortals.

There Konstantinas Sirvydas

He used to reprimand me for my negligence

And Kontrym would reveal

The catalogues of Lithuanian studies,

There Putinas taught me

To enjoy a book,

In which, among others, 

At least seven good poems can be found,

And Lev Karsavin

Already predicted exile.

Now to return across the street –

A long, long journey,

Such a distance,

Like the earth’s flight around the sun

Fifty times at least.

My head is even in a whirl

When I stand leaning

Against the brick wall.

Yes.

This is Pilies 10.

And the room above the arch.

This is not only a courtyard but also the home of a poet. A bust carried by a swan reminds us of the poet Juliusz Słowacki (Julius Slovackis in Lithuanian) and his unfortunate fate, as befits a poet. Let us reflect on ‘The Hour of Reflection’, and his dreams of Vilnius poured out in it, although the name of the city is not actually mentioned in the poems. This courtyard was the site of the first Botanical Garden of Vilnius University. Vaičiūnaitė’s poem ‘Botanical Garden’ reminds us of it. Maybe you will even smell the flowers of Jean-Emmanuel Gillibert, brought from Grodno? 

Julius Slovackis ‘The Hour of Contemplation’ Julius Slovackis, Poetry, compiled by Albinas Žukauskas, Vilnius: Valstybinė grožinės literatūros leidykla, 1959.

In a dark school hall, in the city of Lithuania,

The two children were different in the multitude of other children

And in the grace of their stature, and in their youth, 

And in the whiteness of their faces and the stubbornness of their minds.

The younger one was much less hopeful, 

His chest heaved with heavy sighs,

The silken strands of his hair fell on his shoulders,

Half parted. 

They must have been combed daily by a woman’s hand, for they shone softly

They resembled the beauty of a maiden’s curls.

‘He will die’, people often used to say to his mother.

‘Oh no!’ – she smiled, but her heart trembled:

Often, she looked anxiously into his eyes

As you approach the Bernardine Church and enter inside, you will see the most beautiful crystal vaults. They have not been hidden by time and were admired by J. Vaičiūnaitė, who lived next door in the territory of the Archangel Michael Monastery. The frescoes of the church had not yet been unveiled, but the poem ‘Saints Francis and Bernard’ from the cycle ‘Vilnius Churches’ was born.

Adam Mickiewicz, standing next to the Bernardine Church, looks out over the city where he was born as a poet and about which he wrote his poems. 

Adam Mickiewicz ‘City in Winter’, VILNIUS – CITY PORTRAIT R. Paknys Publishing House, 2010. 

The stifling summer is long gone,

And the autumnal torrents of rain have abated,

And the pavement is covered with ice,

And the sparks of horseshoes become less frequent.

And the torrents have ceased to torment.

And the fresh air – what a joy!

The heavy carriages no longer tire themselves,

The clatter of steel does not frighten any more. <…>

And everything here is fresh and joyful now,

You can enjoy the freshness of the air

Or you can dream and watch it snow,

and watch the snowflakes descend from the heights.

One of them wanders in the cold sky,

The other is already circling around nearby,

And is covering the grey ploughing field

Or resting on the banks of the Vilija.

Literatų Street is a veritable labyrinth of poetry. There are many signs of poets who wrote about Vilnius. Choose the ones you like best! Why is it called Literatų Street? Is it because Adam Mickiewicz lived here? The poet stayed in more than one place in Vilnius. Perhaps this street is the most dramatic, as it was here that he lived when the arrests of the members of the Philomath Society began. The graphic artist Eglė Vertelkaitė and Danguolė Butkienė, the director of the travel agency operating on this street, should be thanked for the fact that more than 200 literary figures of various nationalities with at least some connection to Vilnius or Lithuania are commemorated on the wall of this street. It was unveiled on 28 May 2011. And the unofficial godfather of this wall is the poet Aidas Marčėnas, whose poor grades did not prevent him from becoming a poet.

Literatų gatvė (Literary Street), ‘Pasauliai’, 2005. 

Before the final school leaving exam for Lithuanian 

I recall how, with my classmates,

we savoured a joint of wacky baccy on Literatų Street

after a sneaky shot to take the edge off the fear

while we pondered what topics 

could possibly be cast upon us – 

whatever… 

give me an open topic, 

my preference any day; passing by 

for the last three decades, a flow 

of talent granting a solid mark of three out of five, 

even if I’m not an ‘-owicz’

maybe a little part of me might find itself 

on the wall of Literatų Street

gdzie mieszkal

Mickiewicz I Jakimowicz

In the courtyard of the Lithuanian Art Museum, or Chodkiewicz Palace, the sculpture depicting J. K. Chodkiewicz (by M. Gaubas). The poem ‘Corolomachia’ was written by the Jesuit academy lecturer and poet Laurentius Boyer, after the victory of J.K. Chodkiewicz at the Battle of Kircholm (Salaspils). The section on the honour of J.K. Chodkiewicz is worthy of attention.

Laurentius Boyer’s ‘Corolomachia’. Translated from Latin by Benediktas Kazlauskas, Vilnius, ‘Vaga’, 1992. 

Truly beloved by God, most mighty Karolis, leader,

How must all our theatres glorify you? 

You protect Livonia and defend the homeland from enemies,

And all the citizens are at peace in thy protection.

Thou enterest the city of the Vilnius on white horses,

Clapping and resounding cheers reverberate; 

“Hip Hip Hooray” – let the three cheers echo through shouts of ‘valio!’ 

Let Bellona adorn the chariot with weapons taken in battle. 

Let the troops of prisoners march past the victors.

This is the last place where Kazys Bradūnas lived in Vilnius. In May 2017, a commemorative plaque was unveiled here to honour the poet who had emigrated and then returned to Lithuania. Bradūnas lived and worked in this building from 1992 to 2009.

Kazys Bradūnas, ‘Morning in my city’. From the collection ‘From Vilnius to Vilnius’. Compiled by Aidas Marčėnas Lithuanian Writers’ Union Publishing House, Vilnius, 2008.  

In the white tower of the Cathedral of the Kings

Already the morning is breaking, and the bells are already awakening – 

A one-day tour of the Old Town

Maybe it will be the most beautiful day of my life.

A sunbeam falls through the window, and my eyes are dazzled  – 

The towers, the crosses, and the sky shine.

I won’t get home from them until tonight,

Forgetting my love and my land and my friends.

Oh, heart, be thou a little prisoner,

You’re in the fire of love in this city…

The burning glow of its future

A hundred dawns blaze in the sky.

In the mighty peal of bells

With the rising sun, let us go.

In the courtyard of this building, you will find a memorial plaque commemorating the legendary poet Paulius Širvys. This is the seventh of eight places where he lived in Vilnius. No lights shone here at night; the fear of darkness experienced during the war was difficult to overcome. While living in this apartment, Širvys tended a patch of land under his windows planted with flowers.

‘I’ll Come on a Silent Night’, I’ll Stretch My Hands into the Distance’ (‘Tiesiu toliams rankas’), 1997.

I will come

On a silent night

Quieter

Than a shadow,

When shadows

Of green birch trees

Walk on the sand.

I’ll come

On a green night

With the silks of dawn

To cover

And fairy tales

To tell:

As they walk

In the sand

Green

The shadows of the birches,

I’ll come

In the dark night,

When dogs

Are yelping drearily,

And your thoughts

Are dark.

I’ll come

I’ll come that night

To light your lamp

And fairy tales

To tell you:

As green shadows

Of birch trees

Walk

In the sand,

I’ll come

In the noisy night,

When the thunder

Cracks.

Just say,

Where you are,

Just tell me

Tell me 

Your name.

The Wolf Usian restaurant at the corner of Vokiečių and Žydų streets is no more, but a fountain spouts near its former location. Before the Second World War, the bohemian Jewish world and its most famous poets used to gather in this restaurant. Here, the hopes of the interwar years and the despair of the Holocaust intertwine. Moyshe Kulbak, Abraham Sutzkever, Shmaryahu ‘Shmerke’ Kaczerginski … We can feel the reflection of the destroyed Jewish world in the poem ‘Dying City’ by Evaldas Ignatavičius, and in the poem ‘Vilnius 1943’ by Alfonso Nyka-Nyliūnas. And Moishe Kulbak’s poem ‘Vilnius’ has been recognised as the most beautiful work of Jewish poetry about Vilnius. Here is an excerpt.

Moishe Kulbak’s ‘Vilnius’, ‘Vilnius: Portrait of a City’ (2010; translated from Yiddish by Alfonsas Bukontas)

 Someone walks wearing a Tallit mantle within your walls.

 At night, a lonely mourner keeps vigil in the city.

 Listens: old passageways and temples

 Echoes like a dusty, husky heart.

 Thou art a Psalter made of iron and clay;

 Every wall a melody, every stone a prayer,

 When the moonlight pours into the cabalistic streets

 And your stiffening naked beauty comes out.

 Sorrow is your joy, the joy of the deep basses

 In the choir’s harmony, your feast is a wake,

 And thy consolation is radiant poverty

 Like the silent mists of summer in the suburbs.

 Thou art the dark talisman affixed in Lithuania,

 Wrapped in lichen and grey moss;

 Every wall is a parchment, every stone Holy Scripture,

 Arranged in enigma and unravelled in the night,

 When the water carrier on the old synagogue stands 

 With his beard tilted up as he counts the stars.

The Belarusian poets Maksim Bahdanovich, Maksim Tank, Yakub Kolas (Kanstantsin Mikhailovich Mitskievich), and Yanka Kupala have also left their mark in Vilnius. Let us remember them on the territory of the Basilian Monastery, where the Vilnius Belarusian Museum used to be. Maksim Bahdanovich, the creator of the literary Belarusian language, also visited it. Although his stay in Vilnius was brief, the poem reflects his impressions.

‘Vilniaus gatvėse girdisi griausmas kurtus’ from ‘Vilnius: miesto portretas’ (‘The Sound of Deafening Thunder in the Streets of Vilnius’ from ‘Vilnius: A Portrait of the City’. Translated from the Belarusian by Antanas Drilinga, 2010).

People float down the streets like an invisible stream.

Lights flash in the windows, and I can see – at that moment 

Eyes flash in the twilight under the mask of fatigue

<…>

It’s quiet, it’s peaceful. And dreams are being dreamt

The domes, the towers, the spires, are lifted into the clouds;

Only footsteps disturb their old dreams,

The clock strikes, as if counting steps,

And the wind whirls and whistles through the belfry.

The Gates of Dawn may be the only city gate to have survived, but Aušros Vartai are precious in their own right – they are unique, which is why J. Vaičiūnaitė kisses their bricks. 

From the series under the ‘Coats of Arms of the North’ City Gates. Vilnius ‘Vyturys’, 1991.

The City Gates. Early dawn.

Chimneys and bell towers are becoming sharper. 

The city gates start shining. 

The firing slits for shooting shrink. 

The noise and shadows of battles dissipate. 

In vain would you yearn for fog and rain – still you would bask in the northern sun… 

In the wild glow of fires,

with chapel candles and constellations dripping over the hills,

above the billowing and tumbling rooftops, 

amid the chiming of the bell,

so much space and exuberant exhilaration… 

The broken pavement has yielded to the rule of time.

I kiss your bricks, your coat of arms, and your delicate name with its undulating waves, 

and pick up the rusty keys… 

Early dawn. The city gates start shining