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Васіль Вітка
Васіль Вітка на
Ведах беларускіх

Translated by


VVhat is it: fairy tale or dream, Or forest voice that speaks? Or the bows’ harmonious boom, From impetus oblique.

It struck — at once the rain ran gay, Following the cloud near, Like a boy, barefoot, makes his way In a world bright and clear,

And with no choice of path, takes A beeline to the wood, Where mushrooms and fungi break Clear through the mossy sward.

Where sun sparks from wild strawberries, Where dream the bumblebees, Where from wild quinces fragrances The day swoons utterly.

Where the beads of thick dewdrops throng, Warm periwinkles near, The heathers give to us a song For recollections dear.

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Collections: Belarusan Lyric poetry