How long is the period of validity of poetry? Dainas Sirmās reflections by “Literatūras” / Article / LSM.lv

The reflections of the poet Daina Sirma after the “Literature” trip in the world of the poet Fričs Bārda.

The land of Latvia also speaks the language of poetry, there are many hotspots in the land of Latvia that speak loudly and in a full voice. Often also physically want to get to these hotspots, enjoy the smells, winds, colors and moons of it, see how the poetic space there transforms, merging the former with the future, the cook’s intuition with the long-forgotten, clearly explored with the imaginary. Sometimes it takes over quite surreal feelings when it seems – the earth is talking to me, and I have to write it down. In my poetry books, I have written down Zilokalns, Jāņskola, Daugavpils fortress, Franciscan monastery in Rīga, Kalpaka Liepsala, Kolka, Jūrmalciems and Dikļi in my poetry books.

In Pociems, Fricis Bārda speaks to us in the voice of the book “Son of the Earth” and “Songs and Prayers for the Tree of Life”.

Since in a poem he called Rumbiņi birches as holy birches, for a hundred years now a Latvian reader has been asking himself, what makes holy birches different from ordinary ones?

Also simplifies, but completely impossible his wish:

So that the earth is not in pain,
When my feet mention it,
In order for the flower not to suffer,
When the child crowns him pin, we have not forgotten, we try to take into account.

Isn’t the land in pain in Rāķi bog, where the peat industry cuts it into small pieces and takes it to shops?

Our loved ones, like the poet, we would like to walk in as gently as the twilight wind in the lime tree.

How long is the period of validity of poetry? When I think about it, I get a little religious feelings.

The Smiltene – Ainaži narrow-gauge railway, called the small train, which started Frič Bārda’s journey to the tops of European philosophy at the University of Vienna, has today turned into an entertainment bicycle lane, but Frič Bārda’s eyes can see the old station and hardly anything else. This is hardly the most engaging, the most intoxicating.

So strange that “Literature” has put us in one time space. And near Rumbiņi, Vīne road and Rāķi bog, my “Ārciems open-air church” is standing next to it, which is not there, because we have strayed into the ungodly, there are only foundations, a sand floor, a cross and an empty bench. Here is also the prototype of teacher Lidija Āboliņa, my poem “Mēdzūla”, whose childhood as a little first-grader on her way home from school through the woods in the winter with a school bag and, presumably, with long power, she was able to repel the attack of seven wolves.

If we read a poem, if we experience poetry, but we end up in the world of a poet, we are inside. Maybe even a little bit into his skin. In the program “Literatūra”, driven by an inescapable sentiment, I will also allow Frič Bārda’s physical touches over time – I put his ring on my finger, put his hute on my head, put on a penny and played his violin a bit. At that moment, a small piece of plaster fell to the ground in his room, and I picked it up and kept it on my bookshelf close to my passport.

Scenes not included in the program “Literature”. Click on the arrow to watch the next one.

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