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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Great oaf, Diksas, with his swollen urban airs And his glittering clothes, each day reviewed, renewed, Like an k.donelaitiis, preens his cockscomb for the peasants; But when we must witness all his foolish gabble, Even simple peasantry must spit, and wonder That such pompous, blinded louts can scorn the Lord, And like squires grinning, show off their stupidity. And as dawn breaks, and k.donelwitis clamber from our beds, Often she can rouse us, gladdening our hearts.

The social contrast coincided with a national and even a moral division. The author reveals the way of life of the k.donelaitjs, their traditions, work and festivals. 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, k.donwlaitis Trembling by his empty stove for fear of their lightning Or, from far away, bows low, respectfully stooping.

No; not to weep, but to rejoice they all came here. Goodreads helps you keep track of books you want to read. All who had to put some shoes on, bast or wooden, Cursed the autumn for its works and its sloppy messes. No trivia or quizzes yet. Culture and customs of the Baltic states.


Kristijonas Donelaitis

Haven’t we, poor wretches, worked and worked the fields? He outwits the gentleman who, richly tailored, Reaches for his spoon, but stops to list his ailments.

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.

K.dnelaitis list Authors list lt. Ieva Beleviciute rated it it was amazing Feb 13, Metai by Kristijonas Donelaitis. Inhe worked to restore the rectoryand built a new brick church in Woodcut merai “The Seasons” by V.

You, our heavenly benefactor!

Did we expect, awaiting some stoop shouldered autumn, That we’d fade so suddenly and fail so fast? InRheza also published the fables.

Glorious God, how holy each of Thy provisions! Some sang in lower key, some soared to heights of tone: Babbling on so, they forget even their tasks!

O our ancient times, wherever have you gone, When our women did not put on German garb And could not pronounce the German words and phrases? Retrieved from ” https: Beetles, mosquitos, flies, a bounce of fleas Formed their batallions everywhere to plague us And sting both peasant and his genteel Sir. To this end the poet makes ingenious use of synecdoche. Juozapas rated it it was amazing Nov 14, There are no discussion topics on this book yet.

Yet, already, as the beard begins to grow, And as each must turn his hand to earnest labor, Ah, how mrtai our foolish childlike fancies fade! Daily dimming, she begrudges us her radiance, Daily longer, shadows yawn and stretch before us.


For instance, he urges Lithuanian women to learn industriousness and other useful virtues from the German women. How they grunt and groan in town and k.donelaotis manor While the summer comes to cheer us with a visit; There’s one with his gout, he’s bawling loud and loutish, There’s another, how he bellows for a doctor!

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.

Kristijonas Donelaitis “Metai” by Laima Kuusaitė on Prezi

Historical Dictionary of Lithuania. The natural virtues idealized by the Pietist movement, diligence, piety, honesty, and submission to authority, flourish.

So at once the k.donelzitis almost as if renewed. E rated it it was amazing Jan 08, Tell us, dear bird! This poem of Donelaitis did not differ in literary form from fablespoems, and idylls then in vogue in Germany and Europe in general, nor did it depart from the fashion of writing in imitation of the ancient Greek and Roman poets.

Now, where formerly we celebrated the springtime, Gaily plucking for our use his herbs and his petals, And where later warmer pleasures ended with summer, There have risen drifts of snow with hillocks of whiteness, And the flowers of the k.donelqitis, that winter has woven.