Įdomiausias „Metų” veikėjas. Jis yra visiems žinomas, visų mėgstamas, sugebantis visiems įtikti kaimo seniūnas. Tarpininkas tarp būrų ir ponų. Kristijonas Donelaitis was a Prussian Lithuanian poet and Lutheran pastor. He lived and worked in Lithuania Minor, a territory in the Kingdom of Prussia, that had a sizable Lithuanian-speaking minority. He wrote the first classic Lithuanian language poem, The Seasons (Lithuanian: Metai). Kristijonas Donelaitis’ Metai in der Tradi- tion nationaler Epen in Europa / Kristijono Donelaičio Metai. Europos nacionalinių epų tradicijoje.
Daily dimming, she begrudges us her radiance, Daily longer, shadows yawn and stretch before us. The peasants are praised and scolded, encouraged and restricted according to donelsitis norms of Christian morality, their life and behaviour is evaluated according to the truths of the Holy Scripture.
His world view was shaped by the classical curriculum, required Lithuanian studies, and the Pietism movement. It was published in for the first time and had laid the foundation for the secular Lithuanian literature.
Some doonelaitis 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?
Kristijonas Donelaitis – Metai The Seasons. Why so hide yourself, with all your tales to sing? This epic poem, as usual for this genre, embraces the whole life of the nation.
Kristijonas Donelaitis : Metai | About text |
Siparis, scenography – A. Metaiwhich became one of the principal works of Lithuanian poetry. His parents were free peasants who owned the land that they cultivated. 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.
Ah, at least let’s hasten to warm up our cottages, In good husbandry ready the sheds for cattle, And make sure that not a newborn piglet freezes. May he meet, God willing, every spring robustly, May he go on merrymaking into summer. When, at times, we catch a glimpse of your attire, Then like peasant, sparrow, you appear to us. Beetles, mosquitos, flies, a bounce of fleas Formed their batallions everywhere to plague us And sting both peasant and his genteel Sir.
God appoints a civil place for donepaitis person: For now the winter’s chills and frosts were at an end, And the enchanting spring wrought wonders everywhere.
Earth, her every corner soggy, blubbers softly For our wheels slash through her washed-out back.
What’s the good that Mikols gives the world his presence, Bobbles bloated paunch, himself puffed like a bladder? Aren’t you ashamed that every German housewife Metwi flax already hatcheled to the meadows And, amazed and shocked, scolds your laziness?
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 donslaitis for a doctor! 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?
University of California Press. But joyous, when we come to celebrate the springtime And make ready to begin our labors in the fields, You take up your singing shepherd’s pipe at once, and With each ringing voice and sound and gentle tone, Urge us to rejoice and lift our labor’s burden. In other projects Wikimedia Commons.
Texts list Authors list lt. Slippered Duke as well as us poor devils in sandals, Emperor the same as one of his shawl-covered subjects?
Doesn’t each calf, when the earth merai ices over, Give itself in perfect faith to our true care And, eyes fixed on our two palms, await its fodder? Thickets and every heath bestirred themselves; Hill, meadow, dale threw down their sheepskin jackets.
God grant you goodly springtimes in abundance; Strapping and carousing, may you live to meet them. The author reveals the way of life of the peasants, their traditions, work and festivals.
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.
These old melancholy fields alone remain; Their loveliness is with us like a sunken grave They show none of God’s magnanimous promises, Vonelaitis His plans for us before we saw the world.