Lithuanian poet Eugenijus Ališanka’s journey across borders and myths
Visiting India for the first time, Lithuanian poet Eugenijus Ališanka brought a unique voice shaped by exile, history and a deep connection to mythology, to Chair Poetry Evenings that was held in Kolkata. The festival was back with its seventh edition, celebrating the power of verse, featuring poets from 12 countries and 15 languages. Born in Siberia to exiled Lithuanians, Eugenijus’s journey from mathematics to poetry reflects his quest for meaning beyond equations. In conversation with Indulge, Eugenijus shares his reflections on poetry’s role in a complex world, his connection to Eastern European literary traditions, and the universal language of storytelling.
What drew you away from numbers and equations to the world of words and metaphors?
Mathematics felt too dry for me. A close friend who wrote, painted and explored music and philosophy profoundly influenced me. Gradually, I immersed myself in literature, philosophy—including ancient Indian thought—and cultural studies. Eventually, poetry became my calling, absorbing me entirely.
Being born in Siberia as the son of exiled Lithuanians and returning to Lithuania in your early years, how has this duality of exile and return shaped your poetic voice?
Though I don’t remember the exile — I was two when we returned — the stories I heard from my parents and grandmother left a lasting impression. In my early writing under Soviet rule, censorship steered me away from overt themes of freedom or exile. Later, I began weaving personal and national histories into my poetry and essays, giving voice to my family’s experience and Lithuania’s collective memory.
What inspires you to connect ancient mythology with contemporary realities, and how do you see this enriching the European literary tradition?
Myths are timeless; they evolve, speaking new languages while retaining their essence. By blending elements of reality, imagination, and metaphysics, my storytelling often mirrors myth-making. These stories reflect a universal human condition, connecting the past with the present. Whether my writing enriches European tradition isn’t for me to say—but if it fosters dialogue and exchange, then perhaps it does.
As a translator, you've worked on poets like Wisława Szymborska and Jerome Rothenberg. How has translating the works of others influenced your own writing?
Translation is the best school for writing. It sharpens your ear for language and enriches your craft. My affinity lies with Polish poetry, which has deeply influenced me. Translating poets like Szymborska and Herbert feels like having an intimate conversation with them, learning from their voices and visions.
What role do you believe poetry plays in preserving humanity and pushing back against forces?
I once believed in poetry’s transcendental power to change the world. Now, I’m more pragmatic—poetry might not save humanity, but it can save individual souls, including the poet’s. In times of unrest, poetry remains a quiet resistance, a reminder of what it means to be human.
How does it feel to participate in the Chair Poetry Evenings, a festival that brings together voices from across the world?
I’ve attended literary events worldwide, but this is my first time in India. It’s fascinating to see poetry thriving in a different cultural context. Despite differences, poetry feels universal—a shared prayer among a small, devoted sect. Chair Poetry Evenings is no exception, and being part of it feels enriching.
What advice would you give to young poets trying to navigate their voice in today’s world?
Don’t follow advice—listen to your heart. It will guide you through the complexities of the world and lead you to your truth.