​

        "Where you were born, there you are suitable," -- our people say.

​

        Probably, this proverb has been an echo of that Knowledge our distant ancestors possessed long before the Christianity and which has been proved by modern science. Every human has his own biorhythms and vibrations of his spiritual bodies, and they tally with the rhythms of his people and that land, which God and Fate appointed them to live there. The harmony of the spiritual vibrations of a person and his/her land bring them to resonance realized as eruption of person's creative abilities.

​

        That's why people have their own cultures, languages and faiths, and they are different around the world. Every concrete person is spiritually bonded with his land and culture. It gives him awareness of being at one with his orderly environment and feeling of internal comfort and good self-esteem like a baby in his mother's arms.

​

        But how can the world stand itself without the people who have the syndrome of "terra incognita"? The ones, who are possessedly enticed by unsolved mysteries or undiscovered lands? Probably, we wouldn't have learned yet, that there are China and Persia in the world and that India isn't placed on the back of the whale if there had been no such traveling merchants who just couldn't tame their curiosity and nosiness and at the same time brought us tea and silk. These they have been that, who wander around the world, searching for new trade ways, but eventually discovering new countries and"promised lands". And we, being carried away by their pattern, leave our 'nests' in search of better life.

​

         But "one doesn't look for good because of good."

         Or: "you may go farther and fare worse"

         My mother always told me: "Were your umbilical cord was buried, there your heart will be forever".

         My heart is in Belarus.

         Perhaps, the Belarusans are neither good merchants nor curios. It seems, that"don't leave your land" has been our ancient precept reflected all across our folk-lore and even in our National Emblem. Most Belarusans leave their country not at good will. So do I: as most of my people, I like traveling, but let me return home after all. Finding ourselves here, in Canada, is particular fate for all of us, but at the same time, it reflects the crisis stage of our state and culture.

​

          Something has happened to our country. Something has violated its previous orderly structure. Centuries of forcing of our people by foreign power from both outside and inside to change our language, culture, faiths and life style destroyed the harmony of our ethnic structure and existence on this world at all. Now, as many times in our history, we are faced with the problem, which the other peoples have already solved: how to define ourselves as a nation and to save our identity. That means -- to survive. That means to gain the conditions for further spiritual and cultural developing.

​

         That's why my heart remained in Belarus.

​

         "I like Canada, but I don't love it. I love Belarus, but I don't like it", we say here.

         Soaking into the spiritual energy of Canada has brought my gifts given me by my native land to their recovering. I dedicate them to my country. At the same way, I hope, my work will be a kind of returning of the benefits to Canada. I hope, the acquaintance of the Canadians with the Belarusan culture and literature will enrich the Canadian culture. That's why I am here.

          I wish, that meeting me, people, instead of the trivial asking 'where is Belarus?', say me the names of the Belarusan writers, as they do with A. Pushkin, Viktor Hara or Omar Khayam

          I got the autographed book of our famous writer-historian, which I would like to translate, -- "I wish you your books become a national property of both Canada and Belarus".

          Here it is. I can't divide it.

​

* * *

​

​

If We Had Viking's Hearts

​

by Natallia Arsenneva

(translation from Belarusan)

​

​

Today, the sea is such green color

that can be ice at our early spring.

Looking for the way, our ship

is running into it,

and it --

is ringing, ringing, ringing

What about?

What does its green ring portend us?

Why are we listening to it, and where're we going?

What did we lost, and what're we looking today for,

just following the sun?

The unknown and new world?

Some when, setting hungry sails,

the Vikings strived to distance,

as we are doing now

And with them together, courageous,

and thirst for mystery and steam

of variable glory strived

If Viking's hearts sounded with the bells in us,

we'd turned the sails

back to the east at once.

There, where bleeding desperately,

Our people have already cried out

both their tears and soul.

But we aren't Vikings

Oh New Land,

when the wave

stops playing and clasps us to the distant wharf,

be a shelter, warm and comfortable, for us,

but not the Father country,

no!

​

(Translated from Belarusan)

​

​

​

Toronto.

May 2004.