This page contains a text in Lithuanian with a modern English translation. This particular text and its translation are extracted from a lesson in the Early Indo-European Online series, where one may find detailed information about this text (see the Table of Contents page for Baltic Online in EIEOL), and general information about the Lithuanian language and its speakers' culture.
Nuõ pàt kálno, lìgi tìk jã isvýdo, Mykoliùkas jã imtè emes i savè, artino sáu Sevèrija, rýdamas erdve, ir kai priejo visái artì, nebenuléido sàvo akiu, tìk didelem didelem, pilnõm bekrãscio dziaugsmo ir pasigerejimo, ziurejo staciai jái i akelès.
Nusìjuoke Mykoliùkas, sustódamas gríezes; nè balsù, tìk kazin kaip sàvo vìduriu. Ir daugiau nebègrieze. Kám begries, kàd dabar jõ krutìneje, visamè jamè bùvo tokià mùzika, kuriõs jìs nègi isreiks menkù sàvo grieztuveliù...
Sedejo abùdu ir nieko daugiau nebekalbejo. Jíem bùvo gera. Taip gera, kaip pìlnu zíedu prazýdusiems zolýnams. Jie tarpsta, kvepia, lapeliai kecias i salìs, ìs sunkùmo lepsta. Jie grãzina píeva, tráukia i savè bet kuriõ gývio akìs. Ir ne víenas vabzdys neaplenkia ju nepabuciãves, ant ju nepasilsejes. Tìk víenas nedõrelis zmogùs tuõj síekia jõ - nusiraskýti ir, pavarcius pavarcius, numèsti, kàd bè laiko nuvýstu, jau ùzmirstas.
Kã jie galejo víenas antrám pasisakýti? Kàd mýli víenas antra, kàd jíemdviem gera draugejè? Jùk tai ir bè zõdziu áisku. Dár pilniau. Zõdziai arbà nè vìska tepasãko, arbà per daug pasãko ir atvesìna vìdu. Zõdziai - gãras: issisnypscia ir nebèkecia vidaus.
Abùdu sedinciu staigà pamãte ìs raisto issinerusi ju sventvakariu bendra, del kuriõ jíemdviem siaipjau bùvo nei silta, nei sálta. Pasérgejo ir pagreitinta jõ zingsni, nè tóki sabasìni kaip kitomìs póilsio dienomìs. Pasérgeje zingsniúojant tiesiai i juõdu, pajùto siandie kitaip busiant, neláukiama ilisiant i tã óra, kuri tìk ka bùvo susidãre pãtys sáu, sáu vieníem, kuriõ pavydù bùvo, kàd kitì kvepúotu; ilis ir sudrums uzkereta ju méiles srìti.
From that very hill, as soon as he caught sight of her, he took her into himself, he brought Severija near to himself, eagerly devouring the space and when she got very near, he no longer lowered his gaze, but with great eyes full of limitless joy and pleasure looked her straight in the eyes.
Stopping his playing Mykoliukas laughed, not with his voice, but somehow or other with his insides. And played no more. Why would he play, when now in his breast, in all of him, there was such music, which he could never express with his insignificant little instrument.
They both sat and said nothing more. It was nice for both of them. It was just as nice as for blossoming greenery in full bloom. They grow luxuriantly, they smell good, the leaves spread out to the sides, grow limp from heaviness. They adorn the meadow and attract to themselves the eyes of any living thing. And not a single insect passes them by without kissing (them) and without resting on them. Only the human being (dishonorable as he is known to be) reaches for it immediately - to tear it off for himself and having turned it over, to throw it away so that it would fade before its time, already forgotten.
What could they say to each other? That they love each other, that they like being together? But that is clear without words. Or even more. Words either don't say everything or they say too much and make the insides cold. Words are steam. They make a noise, but they don't reach the insides.
While both of them were sitting there, they saw arising from the marsh a participant in the holiday evenings someone about whom both were indifferent. They watched his accelerated pace, which was not so festive and unhurried as on other days of rest. Watching him walking directly to them, they felt that today would be different, unexpectedly forcing its way into that atmosphere which they had just created for themselves only, the two of them alone, of which they were jealous, that other people might breathe it. It will force its way in and disturb the charmed dimension of their love.