Wednesday, February 19, 2020

from Donelaitis - the seasons




From THE CARES OF WINTER



... the winter's scowling wraths are already returning,
And again the bristling north wind is flying to scare us.
Look, how everywhere on pondwater panes are appearing
Just as, in that house, a glazier is putting in windows.
And the fishes' home, where bullfrogs saluted the summer,
Puts its armor on, because of the quarrels of winter,
Sending all its animals to sleep in the darkness.
There, the northern wind has frightened the fields with its scolding
So that bogs and swamps are shrinking, contracting themselves to
Stop the puddles of mud from their usual splashing and gurgling.
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.
Thus the world begins again to welcome the winter.
Well, I guess it's time: it won't be long'till Christmas
Holiday begins, and Advent wants to end by tomorrow.
Fall, that elephant, too painfully annoyed us,
Rudely spattering the mud it wallowed around in.
All who had to put some shoes on, bast or wooden,
Cursed the autumn for its works and its sloppy messes.
Gentlemen, who fly around on splendid stallions,
Going visiting each day in the finest of garments,
Also cursed the filthy autumn when the mud splashed.
Therefore all the people turned their faces northward,
Most impatient for a winter of dryness, complaining.






Then, while everyone lamented, a glow started spreading;
Soon, across the sky, the fluttering winds of the winter
Chased the stormy weather to the south, where the stork sleeps.
Later, thrusting out her head from the clouds, the winter
Quarreled like a shrew about the dungs of the autumn,
And, with frosts, she burned away its oozing labors;
Once she'd shoveled up the fall's manures, the winter
Built us all a road upon the horrible mudflats,
Teaching how to skate and fly again with sledges.
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 winter, that winter has woven.
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 .,.


                                                  (Theodore Melnechuk) translator
                                                     -from Lithuanian









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