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Kristijono Donelaičio Metai Europos nacionalinio epo tradicijoje The Seasons by Kristijonas Donelaitis in the Tradition of European. National Epics Rhesa was the first to publish Donelaitis’ writings (based on the manuscripts in .. Metai [The Seasons]: skiriama Kristijono Donelaičio osioms gimimo. This Page is automatically generated based on what Facebook users are interested in, and not affiliated with or endorsed by anyone associated with the topic.

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Spiders, in corners motionless, wove yarn Or soundless, climbed the scaffolds of their snares. Tell us, dear bird! It is wonderful to see how the forests of pinetrees Show up everywhere, with curly crests, and bearded, And, like powdered dandies, stand with elbows akimbo.

Why does death reap up the lords before their hour? There queenlike, amidst the other singing donelicio, You explode in your glad song, gloriously. Soon the bland weather stroked and woke the fields, Called up herbs of all species from the dead.

All these meats dondlaicio Krizas’ cook so chopped and pounded, Violently boiled and roasted for the wedding, Such a roar and tumult all along the street Startled village neighbor Pauluks with amazement. The ruins of the Lochstedt castle in the aftermath of a battle. Inhe worked to restore the rectoryand built a new brick church in Trivial man, thou, learn at last to be contented!

By using this site, you agree to the Terms of Use and Privacy Policy. The fables were first published by the very same Rhesa in in the book Aesop or Tales Aisopas arba Pasakos ; they were later republished in many publications and editions of Donelacio writings.

Kristijonas Donelaitis

Then the two, after their heavy toil and labor, Flew off swiftly to a marsh, to fish their dinner. Later Rhesa gave the manuscripts that had come into his keeping to the Prussian Privy State Donelaiicio. The manuscript of “The Seasons” was handed over to the then Institute of Lithuanian Language dojelaicio Literature, and at present it is held in the manuscript collection of the Institute of Lithuanian Literature and Folklore.

Why so hide yourself, with all your tales to sing?


Later, with the time already here to blossom, One, foppishly skipping like a gentleman, And another, scurrying like a peasant boor, Waste their days of youth away in foolish frolic. Daily dimming, she begrudges us her radiance, Daily longer, shadows yawn and stretch before us. Why do you not pluck and hatchel the flax properly? The book also has a preface by the publishers, Donelaitis’ short biography and a vocabulary of some terms.

And how often, as we hop and skip so gaily, Reaper Death moves in with wicked pox, to strangle Meta to rack and twist the feeble wretch with ague. Earth, her every corner soggy, blubbers softly For our wheels slash through her washed-out back. A comprehensive academic edition of Donelaitis’ writings, prepared by the scientific staff of the Institute of Lithuanian Literature and Folklore and published in There, the northern metak has frightened the fields with its scolding So that bogs and swamps are shrinking, contracting themselves to Stop the puddles of mud from their usual splashing and gurgling.

At the time, the parish of Tollmingkehmen had around 30 villages with around 3, residents. Good it is, the meetai of a winter ended, Finding we’ve a plump reserve that’s comfortable. Donelaitis conveys the sameness of peasants’ everyday life, where nothing new ever occurs. He relentlessly seeked to obtain from the authorities permission to go to the former East Prussia. Slaughtered three cows that were barren, and two oxen; No count did the butcher make of pigs and mutton; Of the geese and chickens, only one remained.

Who would plow the fields, and plant, and sow, and harvest, Who would thresh the grain, or cart it off to market, If there were no Lauras, or no donrlaicio Krizas? The first edition in donelacio Pupil’s Library Series” Thus the world begins again to welcome the winter.

Kristijonas Donelaitis – Wikipedia

Hail, your lusty sniffings; hail, your joy in flowers, Hail! Branches where the birdlings, hatched in heavy leafage, In the nest, as in a cradle, cried and twittered, Or later plump with donelaicuo, flew about fonelaicio chattered, And aflight. Does Donelaicio metai give donelaicio metai earthly blessings Everywhere for us, each day, so generously That donelaiicio any swine, we should devour them always?

Baltos lankos, Kaunas: Illustration from “The Seasons” by V. The donelaicip of Lituanistic materials found in and salvaged from the former East Prussia is kept in the Ddonelaicio Library of the Academy of Sciences in Vilnius. Thickets and every heath bestirred themselves; Hill, meadow, dale threw down their sheepskin jackets. When he needs to use one coin, he’s scared to take it; Starved, he swallows uncooked victuals like an idiot, Shivering in his ragged finery, near naked.

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Meeting peasants, highborn lords puff up with their pride like Globes of bacon fat afloat on leftover soupstock; But the wretched peasant, holey cap in his hands, stands Trembling by his empty stove for fear of their lightning Or, from far away, bows low, respectfully stooping. Don’t we know how each lord with his family, When in fall he’s short of bread and succulent cakes, Deep in troubles, thrusts a coin upon the peasant, Strokes him kindly, pleads for generosity?

Donelaitis was born at Lasdinehlen estate near GumbinnenEast Prussia. But the nightingale, till now cunningly hidden, Paused for all the others to break off their singing.

The preparation of the text was based on Donelaitis’ autographs, transcripts and Nesselmann’s edition; the resulting redaction was adapted for a broader audience and for school use. God grant this to each who, loving his Lithuania, Tends his chores as serf and, faithful, speaks Lithuanian.


Wikimedia Commons has media related to Kristijonas Donelaitis. Some, alas, of our herbs are now stripped so naked That like hags, already ancient, they sit shrunken.

Then, creature we cherish, not even you appear; Like us, you lie silent in the shield of darkness, There in dreams, perhaps, capturing foolish flies. Don’t mind, comrades, as you clear and sweep the dungheap, That all kinds mteai stenches sometimes make you sneeze Or that in the stable you must wade and groan.

This page was last edited on 5 Decemberat Through chink and opening they swarmed in clouds To play their tuneful pipes in the mild air.