2018 m. lapkričio 5 d., pirmadienis

Tremties istorijos - angliškai


Prieš keletą metų iš ypatingo mūsų gimnazijos draugo, labai įdomaus žmogaus, patrioto, tremtinio Mindaugo Babono biblioteka gavo antrąjį, papildytą jo knygos "Per kančias neprarandant vilties....." leidimą. 
Du gimnazijos abiturientai - Domantas Gavėnis ir Aušrinė Skrodenytė išvertė keletą šioje knygoje aprašytų tragiškų tremties istorijų. Žinoma, didysis darbas - išversti visus prisiminimus - dar laukia.  O štai minėti tekstai:

                                                                          I

The doctor asked protractedly, looked, and shook her head. Then she made a decision: “We will take her to the ward. But you can‘t stay here, there are no conditions. “Mommy was in doubt. However, the hope sparked, that the daughter would be saved – she just got into the arms of real doctors. She, herself, took the girl to the ward 6, kissed her and left with the sigh. There was a long trip home ahead of us. Mommy had to be in the job early in the morning, otherwise she would not get a food‘s card. Concentrating all one's forces we reached the bunkhouse. Mommy took a nap and then left for work and I slept till dinner. After the nap, I told everything to my sisters. I also believed that good people would help Cecile to heal. 
Sadly, few weeks later my mom got some news from the office, telling her that the daughter had to be taken from hospital. Satisfied mommy ran to take her, thinking that she was finally okay. I wanted to go too, but she didn‘t allow me saying that I would get tired.

She reached the hospital as if she had wings. The view she saw was ready to drop. Being outside the hospital she already heard her daughters unhuman wail. She left everything and rushed into the ward.

 The little girl was lying in a wet bed and her tiny body was sweaty up to her armpits, in some places there were wounds. Probably no one came to see her. She yelled with the voice that even a stone heart would split with pain. When she saw her mother, she suddenly got silent, straightened her little hands and twined around her neck. For another moment she did not believe it was her mother. She looked around again, glanced into her mother’s eyes, whispered "mommy, mommy" and perished on her shoulder. 
Now the mothers scream broke through, which, unfortunately, could not raise the child from the dead. She was crying and hugging the dead body for a long time. Somehow she managed to control herself, laid the little body into the sledge and set off to a long journey. She dragged her daughter’s body with the last strength she had, and tears blacked the way, she fell, got up, and fell again. She wept. She did not remember how she reached the hut, how she brought in the girl. We surrounded mom and our sister’s body, and we all started to cry. It was hard to know that we survived hunger, but could not save our sister from death clutches.

                                                II

....After a few days the young child got sick. He had flu, rushed 
about and moaned and his mom moaned with him. The child's flame burned out as quickly as a candle... The men made a small coffin out of rustic boards. The women laid out the child‘s corpse.

When the men got back from work, everyone gathered by the coffin. The faces were wrathful, chained by pain, the clothes were soaked, many people were coughing. Everyone had taken a knee in prayer, which was bursing out of the men‘s chests like a silent thunder... When they stood up I saw tears on their cheeks. One just couldn‘t look calmly at that forever sleeping angelic face of the child.

Finally, Kvyklys broke the silence: “Tommorow nobody will go to work. They should give us proper human rights. If not – all of us will die“. Everyone agreed by nodding. There were two candles near the little coffin, which the wind was trying to blow out. The candles were flickering, the image of the Holy Virgin Mary and a small wooden cross would sometimes appear in the bland light. Sometimes it seemed that the child was moving when cought by the light, then his mother would rush towards him and yell: “Wake up, wake up, my son, my angel!..“

But soon she would calm down with her hands let down like wings of a bird. Nobody had the courage to try to comfort her, because that would only increase the pain. She, being young and strong, became gray in just two days. And on that cursed day of June the 14-th she and her husband entered the wagon smiling happily like saying: “When we‘re together, no trouble is too great“. Holding her by her elbow and having a satchel in his other hand, he was bright and hairy. As slim as a deer, smiling as brightly as the sun, she was holding their treasure, their son, by her chest.

They experianced the first trechery while still in the wagon – they took her oak away. He just said: “Protect our son and yourself. We will meet in God‘s grace“. And here she is now, looking at her son who is lying in a coffin, whispering: “I couldn‘t, I couldn‘t save you, I couldn‘t keep my promise... How am I to survive?..“ Her cry didn‘t become any more silent... The women guarded the coffin all night in shifts. The child layed calmly – his body was resting here, but his spirit was already bowing to the Lord of the world...

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