Aistė I

 

When the wind blows, icy and cold, hitting and wounding the face, Lithuania declares herself.
No snow, no rain, no grey day speaks as the wind speaks and says, "That’s me. Lithuania." This is the message the wind carries along.
As the wind blows and the trees bend without a word, so people don’t complain; they stay still and apparently do not suffer. Like the trees, they bend and endure, without pride, without rebellion. They keep quiet and watch nowhere.
In Lithuania, people and nature share the same mood. People resist and suffer without a lament, without their countenance betraying their dolor.
Aistė was late as always. It was in her nature to be late. She was born late, one week later than expected. She woke up late; she fell asleep late. She was always late to school ...
Everything she did was following her existential condition, her intimacy: to be on time, she would have to suffer; she avoided any form of suffering. In a country where suffering was the normal state.
When in the morning one looks out through the window and one sees layers of grey and snow or rain covering every hope of happiness, how can one be enticed to leave their bed, their home?
A graceless lady is Lithuania.