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Seven-Blossom Lily of Vilnius
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... and there is a city, where there stands a hill, old and beautiful,
full of stories and secrets -
in its very heart, there grows a magic seven-blossom lily.
In her first blossom, there flows a river,
named after Vilnele, in the second -
another river runs carrying the name of Neris,
in the third one,
both of them chat in the confluence,
while in the fourth one there run cozy streets,
in the fifth one silent yards play hide-and-seek,
in the sixth one - towers like pigeons float in the sky
and the seventh one holds the castle,
that once arouse from the dream
dreamt by the Great Duke Gediminas...
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... and there is a city, where there stands a hill, old and beautiful,
full of stories and secrets -
in its very heart, there grows a magic seven-blossom lily.
In her first blossom, there flows a river,
named after Vilnele, in the second -
another river runs carrying the name of Neris,
in the third one,
both of them chat in the confluence,
while in the fourth one there run cozy streets,
in the fifth one silent yards play hide-and-seek,
in the sixth one - towers like pigeons float in the sky
and the seventh one holds the castle,
that once arouse from the dream
dreamt by the Great Duke Gediminas...
With a book, one can escape easily, without running away, just as with music. Wherever You are. In-between of light pages awaiting bookmark is like a wood-scented ticket to some hidden place, to some slower time. Your fingertips follow it and suddenly You appear somewhere else, reading under a tree on a hill high above the sinking valleys or maybe somewhere in the lowlands, among verdure close to a sage. Where is safe. Wherever You want it to be.
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