Swiderian culture, also published in English literature as Sviderian and Swederian, is the name of Final Palaeolithic cultural complexes in Poland and the surrounding areas. The type-site is Świdry Wielkie, in Otwock. The Swiderian is recognized as a distinctive culture that developed on the sand dunes left behind by the retreating glaciers. Rimantiene (1996) considered the relationship between Swiderian and Solutrean "outstanding, though also indirect", in contrast with the Bromme-Ahrensburg complex (Lyngby culture), for which she introduced the term "Baltic Magdalenian" for generalizing all other North European Late Paleolithic culture groups that have a common origin in Aurignacian.
Three periods can be distinguished. The crude flint blades of Early Swiderian are found in the area of Nowy Mlyn in the Holy Cross Mountains region. The Developed Swiderian appeared with their migrations to the north and is characterized by tanged blades: this stage separates the northwestern European cultural province, embracing Belgium, Holland, northwest Germany, Denmark and Norway, and the Middle East European cultural province, embracing Silesia, Brandenburgia, Poland, Lithuania, Belarus, Central Russia, Ukraine and the Crimea. Late Swiderian is characterized by blades with a blunted back.
Comin' in easy on the sea train.
Walkin' out under the fog again,
And the sky don't explain
If I'm up or across or down, town around just like then.
The neon screen will never know when.
Be quiet or dream,
And just not crowd the scenes
Of my mind's sound.
I'm goin' under and comin' on out
To see you again.
My mind's been wanderin', but I'm about
To meet you again.
The rhythm of hearts plays in my veins
Like some long-gone lonesome sea train.
I'm only sure that the weather would break if I did.
They'll come easy, then go glad.
Your child at the window says the rain don't look sad,
And you ask me who's mad
As you show me your lost and found.
Down, you're bound again.
With your fan, my fire turns to wind
Your glass fills mine with sand,
You shout, "I'm not your land!"
And I hear the ground.
I'm a weeping shadows, feeling like a willow
Bearing Martha's flower; as the sun comes, I come.
Far across the street, clear across the stream,
The sun shall come.
If you're in a tree and the forest falls, who hears you?
[musical interlude]
And the hills meet the wind, making dew.
We see us again.
As the sun behind clouds, breaking through,
We're gonna meet them again.
The rhythm of hearts plays through my veins
Like some long-gone lonesome sea train.
Rain in the meadow beats the river to the ocean.