Murderous climate for a poet. Marta Altberg and her Belarusian poems

Marta Karlaŭna Altberg was born on January 27, 1896 in the Stukačova estate of Polack (later Drysen) county in a large Latvian family. Her father, Karl Jakaŭlevič, was a fairly wealthy peasant and maintained a considerable farm. A much more famous person was her uncle, a physicist, professor at the State Hydrological Institute Vilhelm Jakaŭlevič Altberg (1877-1942), one of the first ultrasound researchers in Russia and the author of several monographs on underwater ice. Uncle also encouraged his nephews to follow the scientific path. After high school Marta's older sister, Alvina Altberg, graduated from hydrometeorological courses in Petrograd (1915), where she worked for four years as a averager scientist at the Main Physical (since 1924 Geophysical) Observatory — the Meteorological center of Russia.  Then, returning to her parents' house in 1919, she became the head of the meteorological station equipped in her native Stukačova. The hydrologist physicist was Marta's younger brother, namesake uncle Vilhelm Karlavič Altberg (1899-1941). He investigated the freezing of the river bottom with various substances and surfaces.

Marta herself graduated from the 5th grade of the gymnasium. She did not specify which one in her personal documents, but it is obvious that it was the Riga Anna Rumane-Kenini Girls' Gymnasium, where the poet August Saulietis (1869-1933) taught Latvian language and literature. It was he who supported the creative endeavors of the student. Being at the same time the editor of the literary supplement to the newspaper "Latvia", Saulietis published her debut story "The Silver Arrow. The first drop: Christus Vincit!" ("Sudraba bulta. Pirmā lāse: Christus vincit!"; just with a dedication to August Sayliecis) in 1915, followed by several more prose works: "On a Summer Night" ("Jāņu naktī"), "A cup with a pleasant aroma" ("Smaržīgā krūze"), "In the Starlight" ("Zvaigžu gaismā"), "When the clouds disperse" ("Kad mākoņi zklīst"). So by the time of publication in the "Čyrvonaja Polaččyna" newspaper, Marta Altberg had not such a small literary experience. But in Latvian.

The creative activity of the young writer was interrupted by the First World War: German troops were advancing on the Courland province, and Marta Altberg, along with other refugees, went to Petrograd, where she lived for a while, and then returned to her native estate. In 1920-1930 she was an observer at the meteorological station "Stukachova", she worked under the direct supervision of her sister. Now, knowing this, you can perceive Marta Altberg's poems in a different way: she looked at the wind, the sun, "the fog from the swamps" with a professional eye, observing natural phenomenons daily and systematizing information about them. Her native estate (or rather, already a khutor) at that time refered to the Haluboŭsky village Council of the Valynecki district of the Polack region, and naturally, the "Čyrvonaja Polaččyna" was the nearest newspaper where the poet could publish her works.

The fact that the Latvian writer tried her hand at Belarusian poetry is not too surprising: most of her short life (with the exception of the Riga and Petrograd periods) was spent on Belarusian lands. Altberg has heard the Belarusian language since childhood, and during the time of Belarusization, apparently, she got a reason to study it more thoroughly. For example, she wrote working statements and answers to questionnaires in Horki exclusively in Belarusian, although not without mistakes.

Also, only two of her poems were written in Belarusian (the rest of her legacy is prose — in Latvian). Both were published in the "Čyrvonaja Polaččyna" in 1927.

On July 10, 1938, Marta Altberg was arrested on charges of "espionage" (art.68 of the Criminal Code of the BSSR), and on August 16, the "troika" of the NKVD sentenced her to death punishment. On November 11, 1938, Marta Karlaŭna Altberg was shot in Minsk. The Military prosecutor's office of the Belarusian Military District rehabilitated her only on November 27, 1989.
                                                                                                                   Viktar Žybul

МАЁЙ КАХАНАЙ

Беларусь, радзіма палявая,
Ды лясны шумліва-дзікі сказ,
Ты зусім мяне зачаравала
Казачнымі снамі ў ціхі час…

Незабудкай далі сінявеюць,
Над палямі месяцу адсьвет…
Твае песьні ветры мне прывеюць 
І разгоняць суму сьвежы сьлед…

Беларусь, радзіма палявая,
Шызая туманнасьць ад балот…
Над табою сонца палыхае
Радасьцю нязнаных год…


ВЕЦЕР

Ах, не зайздросьці удачам і славе,
Ты іх шчасьлівых – ва ўсім багацей.
Што яны знаюць пра ветру чары,
Што лашчыцца ціха ля іх дзьвярэй.

Вецер скрозь сад пралятае,
Яблыкі ўсё абівае,
А сам ён ня зьесь[ць] ні адно.
Вецер чуць песьні прыносіць…
Сэрца спакою так просіць, –
Пеніцца ў чарцы віно.

Ах, не зайздросьці удачам і славе,
Ты іх шчасьлівых – ва ўсім багацей…
Ціха так думку абнімеш рукамі,
Праляцеўшы міма дзьвярэй…