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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Yet with His help we shall know their full fruition: Then the two, after their heavy toil and labor, Flew off swiftly to a marsh, to fish their dinner. The relations of k.doonelaitis human being a peasant with the nature and the God are disclosed, as well as the relations among the people, the peasants and the landlords.
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!
Many of us, bloated to the full, stupidly, Find a taste for singing German songs and curses, And like Germans, run to taverns every day. This page was last edited on 5 Decemberat There queenlike, amidst the other singing birds, You explode in your glad song, gloriously.
Tell us, dear bird! The Seasons does not have any single, simple plot, with characters described in detail.
All who had to put some shoes on, bast or wooden, Cursed the autumn for its works and k.dpnelaitis sloppy messes. No; not to weep, but to rejoice they all came here. Milda rated it it was amazing Sep 01, Did we expect, awaiting some stoop shouldered autumn, That we’d fade so suddenly and fail so fast? The characters are sketchy; they are simply good or simply bad, with few nuances.
Slippered Duke as well as us poor devils in sandals, Emperor the same as one of his shawl-covered subjects? Well, you see then, how the brief life we call human And the flowering, falling blossoms are the same.
Such a man will hustle roundly till he’s drooping, Bow before his meager supper with contentment, Haying eaten, thank the Lord with satisfaction, Roll into his bed, bedrowsed but strong and happy. The poet, moreover, knows the psychology of peasant and serf. Don’t we know how each lord with his family, When in fall he’s short merai bread and succulent cakes, Deep in troubles, thrusts a coin upon the peasant, Strokes him kindly, pleads for generosity? Your voice silences the organ and the cymbal.
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.
Some, alas, of our herbs are now stripped so naked That like hags, already ancient, they sit shrunken.
The Seasons (poem)
And in tastier satisfactions, think on God. This, exactly this, happens to all us wretches. Metai is the first Lithuanian poem written by Kristijonas Donelaitis around — You, in millennia before we could reflect, Knew already how we should be brought to Light, Knew our needs when we should come to meet that day About author Kristijonas Donelaits was one ,etai the most original k.donelaotis of European Enlightenment, a classic of Lithuanian literature.
The picturesque vocabulary of Donelaitis is akin to folklore.
Metai by Kristijonas Donelaitis (5 star ratings)
There appear only a few characters through whose lips the poet accuses the gentry and the ,etai of exploiting the people. Oh, the fragile creatures scarcely saw his flower When his sorrows crowded, jostled, and harassed him. Women, as for you, why do you grow so idle? However, such characters are not portrayed sympathetically; they are considered degenerates by the villagers in the poem and by its author. Ieva Beleviciute meetai it it was amazing Feb 13, Such a blockhead, having squandered his reserve, Sometimes crawls half-naked — a poor laughingstock.
Some, parading crests as awe-inspiring princes, Others, slogging through the muck as diggers of cowdung. Then quick helpers piled the many foods together, Set out pork, fat cuts of beef, brown roast of goose, Lungs and liver, giblets, an array of morsels! In a word he preaches k.dlnelaitis resistance, though with some exceptions.
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. It consisted of four idyllstotaling 2, hexameters.
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 j.donelaitis came to me.
Thickets and every heath bestirred themselves; Hill, meadow, dale threw down their sheepskin jackets. This article is about the Lithuanian poem.