Three poems

Notes on this poem

I encountered Baiba’s work through Valts Ernštreits, a Livonian poet, who commissioned me to help with translating an anthology of contemporary Livonian poetry titled ‘Trillium’. For that project, generously supported by Latvian Literature, Valts and I worked near his childhood home on a strip of northwestern coast between the Baltic sea and the Gulf of Riga. The region, also known as the ‘Livonian coast’, once consisted of 14 fishing villages and was home to approximately 2500 Livonians. Nowadays, UNESCO considers it a ‘critically endangered’ language as there are less than 20 Livonian speakers in the world. 

It was there, no more than 20km from Baiba’s birthplace – nestled in the same Livonian shoreline and immersed in the images and culture which imbue these poems with their soul – that Baiba’s translations began to take shape. Using excellent bridge translations provided by Uldis Balodis, Valts walked me through each word, line, and image of the poems – providing historical or cultural context, word options, and a sense of the original tone. To capture the spirit of these poems it felt vital to simply see boats anchored along the coastline or to wander the long beaches gathering flecks of amber subtly glinting in the sand. 

While Baiba writes in Livonian, and her parents spoke it, even she did not learn directly from them. Most of the few people who have learned to speak and write in the Livonian have done so through the will to preserve a vital part of their heritage.

While we translated a range of contemporary Livonian poems for the anthology, Baiba’s was unique in its playfulness. Baiba’s poems are rooted in Livonian heritage and culture but never becomes overwhelmed by it. Her work seemed not to be stuck in the past, but acknowledged it, while guiding Livionian towards the future. In particular, I appreciated how ‘A Livonian Girl Smiles’ elegantly and whimsically brings us face to face with the both Livonian the flag and, hopefully, the next generation of Livonian speakers. In terms of audience, Livonian is probably one of the smallest literatures in Europe. Yet, with three poets working in the language, the proportion of poets within this micro-literary community is remarkable.