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K.DONELAITIS METAI PDF

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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Just a moment while we sign you in to your Goodreads account. Doesn’t each calf, when the earth first ices over, Give itself in perfect faith to our true care And, eyes fixed on our two palms, await its fodder? Before, how smoothly two old horses dragged our load; Now, with four good horses emtai, we bog down, Wheel on axle, groaning, gags and, grinding, turns.

The Seasons (poem)

Ieva Beleviciute rated it it was amazing Feb 13, This is how, each year, she is the last to warble, And at night, when the whole world k.ronelaitis warm with sleep, Alone she watches, worships God in darkness. He lived and worked in Lithuania Minor, a territory in the Kingdom of Prussia, that had a sizable minority of ethnic Lithuanians.

The peasants are praised and scolded, k.donelaaitis and restricted according to the norms of Christian morality, their life and behaviour is evaluated according to the truths of the Holy Scripture. He reprimands their evil exploiters, but he does not raise any protest against the system of serfdom. Views Read Edit View history. None of Donelaitis’s works were published during his lifetime. They swapped tales, and the musicians rushed together, Playing the peasant melodies, now for the dance.

There are many imbeciles who in their wicked Hearts will look on the poor peasantry as louts, Yet they do themselves often behave as louts.

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Kristijonas Donelaitis

Whether little serf or master empties his bowels, One must wipe his bottom with a strip of linen, Then must wash his dirty diaper out in water. Let us give, but let us give with sense and reason; How long winter may go on we do not know, Nor foresee how much we’ll have by Holy Easter.

I, an old man, see these marvels and exclaim, Sighing with a woeful wonderment and sorrow: The life of peasants goes in circles as the nature does, and is determined by merai same laws of the God.

God grant k.xonelaitis goodly springtimes in abundance; Strapping and carousing, may you live to meet them. 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, kdonelaitis far away, bows low, respectfully stooping.

He outwits the gentleman who, richly tailored, Reaches for his spoon, but stops to list his ailments. This book is not yet featured on Listopia. It would seem, lord’s pampered nose must turn away from All your work, and laugh and sneer, tilted upward; Watch how easily, though, it would bend downward If like us, poor wretches, they should have to swallow Watery borscht and burnt porridge down their gizzards, Or to share with all of us the woes of serfdom.

His hobbies included building thermometers and barometers, and constructing pianos and clavichords.

Aren’t you ashamed that every German housewife Carries flax already hatcheled to the meadows And, amazed and shocked, scolds your laziness? Laura rated it it was amazing Apr 01, Preview — Metai meetai Kristijonas Donelaitis. So at once the world’s almost as if renewed.

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Kristijonas Donelaitis “Metai” by Laima Kuusaitė on Prezi

How they grunt and groan in town and country 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! Listen, how the road, when skipping wheels try to strike it, Rattles — having frozen — like a well-tightened snaredrum So resounding that its sound keeps echoing in you.

Spring joys and Donelaitis. Germans and AustriansSwiss and Frenchbrought in and given special consideration by the government, became the upper class of landlords and officials, while the indigenous population became the lower class of serfs. The Seasons does not have any single, simple plot, with characters described in detail.

The Seasons (poem) – Wikipedia

Good it is, the hardships of a winter ended, Finding we’ve a plump reserve that’s comfortable. For instance, he urges Lithuanian women to learn industriousness and other useful virtues from the German women. The poem, a classic work of Lithuanian literature, depicts everyday life of Lithuanian peasants, their struggle with serfdom, and the annual cycle of life.

Books by Kristijonas Donelaitis. Thickets and every heath bestirred themselves; Hill, meadow, dale threw down their sheepskin jackets. Donelaitis is not giving too detailed description of objects or persons. The poet, moreover, knows the psychology of peasant and serf.