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Description
a piece made for -- her horsie passed away some time ago. hope you're ok now, dracan

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. . still you're running through your summers fairest . .
. . unsurpassable my bay horse, fearsome . .

. . fiery mane of yours is ever flying . .
. . challenging the senile, weak, and tired . .

. . memory is full of endless trotting . .
. . like the stable filled with warmest odour . .

. . i don't know who owns this golden meadow . .
. . evening up above is dark and sudden . .

. . this flood plain... we both had come to like it . .
. . in those fields we'd both run young and riot . .

. . till alone you jumped over the highest wall . .
. . to the place where being stops at all . .

. . how, how come, my bay horse, fair and stunning . .
. . that you're gone, but always keep on running? . .

~Justinas Marcinkevicius, ***~ (translation mine)

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Justinas Marcinkevičius
***

Vis dar savo vasaromis bėgi,
ak, nepavejamas mano bėri!

Plaikstosi ugniniai tavo karčiai --
iššūkis senatvei, gėlai, kančiai.

Atmintis pilna bėgimo šito,
tartum tvartas tavo kvapo šilto.

Nežinau, kieno yra tas laukas,
vakaras virš jo -- toksai nelauktas,

tas arimas, į kurį išėjom,
pievos, kur, pilni jaunystės, šėlom,

kol tu vienas peršokai tą kliūtį,
už kurios jau nebereikia būti.

Kaipgi šitaip, bėri, mano bėri,
kad nėra tavęs, o tu vis bėgi?

Description
a piece made for -- her horsie passed away some time ago. hope you're ok now, dracan

-----------

. . still you're running through your summers fairest . .
. . unsurpassable my bay horse, fearsome . .

. . fiery mane of yours is ever flying . .
. . challenging the senile, weak, and tired . .

. . memory is full of endless trotting . .
. . like the stable filled with warmest odour . .

. . i don't know who owns this golden meadow . .
. . evening up above is dark and sudden . .

. . this flood plain... we both had come to like it . .
. . in those fields we'd both run young and riot . .

. . till alone you jumped over the highest wall . .
. . to the place where being stops at all . .

. . how, how come, my bay horse, fair and stunning . .
. . that you're gone, but always keep on running? . .

~Justinas Marcinkevicius, ***~ (translation mine)

--------------------

Justinas Marcinkevičius
***

Vis dar savo vasaromis bėgi,
ak, nepavejamas mano bėri!

Plaikstosi ugniniai tavo karčiai --
iššūkis senatvei, gėlai, kančiai.

Atmintis pilna bėgimo šito,
tartum tvartas tavo kvapo šilto.

Nežinau, kieno yra tas laukas,
vakaras virš jo -- toksai nelauktas,

tas arimas, į kurį išėjom,
pievos, kur, pilni jaunystės, šėlom,

kol tu vienas peršokai tą kliūtį,
už kurios jau nebereikia būti.

Kaipgi šitaip, bėri, mano bėri,
kad nėra tavęs, o tu vis bėgi?