Abstract: [I] Wind, having roughened the sea, / bursts forth like cursing from bruised lips / deep within the cold super-power, / pulling a plain do-re- / (5) mi-fa-sol-la-ti-do from chimneys. / Neither princesses, nor toads / genuflect to the ground, / and a tin dime of a star sparkles. / And the semblance of a face / (10) spreads itself through the black glass, / like the slap of downpour. / / [II] Greetings, Tomas. That is my / spectre, having abandoned the body in some / overseas hotel room, rowing / (15) against the northern clouds, it hurries home / tearing out of the New World / to bother you. / / [ill] A late evening in Lithuania. / They wander from churches, burying the commas / (20) of candles in the brackets of [their] palms. In the freezing courtyards / hens dig with their beaks in the dry-rotted sawdust. / Over the stubble of Zhemaitiia / snow weaves like celestial cloisters' ashes. / From the doors flung open - / (25) the smell of fish. A half naked boy / and an old kerchiefed woman chase a cow into the barn. / A Jewish cabby in a cart, hurries late / drumming the village's cobblestones, / yanks the reins / (30) and roars 'Gerai!' ['O.K.']/ / [IV] Pardon this invasion.KeywordsMetrical LineFull StopUpward ContinuationCuronian SpitGraphic OrganizationThese keywords were added by machine and not by the authors. This process is experimental and the keywords may be updated as the learning algorithm improves.