Kristijono Donelaičio Metai Europos nacionalinio epo tradicijoje The Seasons by Kristijonas Donelaitis in the Tradition of European. National Epics “The Seasons” by itis is an epic poem of the Lithuanians from Lithuania Minor. This epic poem, as usual for this genre, embraces the whole life of the.

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A human being is born, matures, gives fruit and dies as a plant. Faithful as a true companion, I’ve instructed you, Not in German, not in French have I praised you, But in peasant manner, like a trusted friend I have spoken openly, as words came to me.

The Seasons (poem)

He k.donelaiti the first classic Lithuanian language poem, The Seasons Lithuanian: Haven’t we, as peasants must, run to our serfdom, Manured furrows, strewn, plowed, and scattered grain, Mowed the hay and raked it, spread about the litter, And all earthly blessings gathered into barns?

How the sun, its upward climb again completed, White, its calm wheel spoked with daylight ever higher, Poised immobile, stands and plays on radiant heaven! The main merits of human beings are laboriousness, piousness, truthfulness, faithfulness to traditions and customs of the nation; the greatest vices are laziness, irreverence, cruelty, acceptance of alien fashions and habits.

This, exactly this, happens to all metqi wretches. And for girls and youngsters she forever hones her Ready scythe, and without care for their young faces, Blindly hews, so well that bonnet, braid, and cap With k.donelaittis beauties of the world turn into nothing.

Milda rated it it was amazing Sep 01, It is in quantitative dactylic hexameters as often used for Latin and Ancient Greek poetry, but due to the nature of the Lithuanian language it has far fewer dactyls than in Virgil or Homer, and in more than half of the meti the only dactylic foot is the 5th.


Donelaitis and his works are considered to be an important part of Lithuanian culture, which also led to creation of literature and music works based on Donelaitis’s life and his poem The Seasons. Then, your dolls and wooden meti put aside, Pressed by hardship, you’ll seize work to earn and live.

Earth, besmirched, is churned and shattered into chunks, Fields in patches swim and splatter, drowning everywhere, Rain, splish-splashing, washes down the backs of folks, Bast shoes, stuffed in shabby boots, soak up the water, While they stomp and knead foul mud like dough. Thirdly, Donelaitis is characterized by his clear stand in the social, ethnic, and moral clash between the immigrant colonists and the old Lithuanian inhabitants.

Women, as for you, why do you grow so idle?

Kristijonas Donelaitis – Wikipedia

Your voice silences the organ and the cymbal. This article is about the Lithuanian poem.

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?

Articles containing Lithuanian-language text.

Kristijonas Donelaitis

Let us give, but let us give with metaj and reason; How long winter may go on we do not know, Nor foresee how much we’ll have by Holy Easter. Babbling on so, they forget even their tasks! Christian Donalitius was a Lithuanian Lutheran pastor and poet.

Ah, what would lords do if they should lose their peasants, And if such poor people didn’t bring their dung? Soon the husband gathered boughs and twigs in armfuls, While, without delay, his wife patched up their home. Winds, in fits and starts, try out their wings and bellow, Forcing motes of warmth k.donelaltis scatter from their hideouts.

Branches where the birdlings, hatched in heavy leafage, In the nest, as in a cradle, cried and twittered, Or later plump with feathers, flew about and chattered, And aflight. It was published in for the first time and had laid the foundation for the secular Lithuanian literature.


Yet with His help we shall know their full fruition: Donelaitis had written”The Seasons” in the seventh-eighth decade of the 18th k.domelaitis. Some plucked lordling often seems to laugh at peasants, And the fool, who smiles, despises their hard labors, As if he could keep his footing without peasants Or take pleasure in his cakes without their dung?

The poet contents himself with telling his readers that all men were created equal in the beginning and that only later did some become lords and others serfs. Donelaitis was born at Lasdinehlen mteai near GumbinnenEast Prussia.

Later, solemnly, the guests read out “Our Father,” Then sat down to table in the Christian way. Paperbackpages. This book is not yet featured on Listopia. Siparis, scenography – A. Nesselmannwho prepared an edition in Metai by Kristijonas Donelaitis. Don’t mind, comrades, as you clear and sweep the dungheap, That all kinds of metwi sometimes make you sneeze Or m.donelaitis in the stable you must wade and groan. This was k.done,aitis original contribution.

Oh, how empty are the labors of our age!

Edvinas Alisauskas rated it it was amazing Jul 13, Daily dimming, she begrudges us her radiance, Daily longer, shadows yawn and stretch before us. Donelaitis calls the latter burai boorsand shows deep sympathy for them. Walls and braces, beams, and many solid rafters Winter gales had loosened from the roof of straw. Thanks for telling us about the problem. Inhe worked to restore the rectoryand built a new brick church in Hail, everchanging world, you’ve kept the feats of springtime; Hail, man too, for you’ve survived to see the summer.