Friday Fable. Three dainas* (foksongs.)

Posted by jlubans on March 29, 2013

Caption: Latvian harvest landscape.

I grew up,
To song I lived through my
With songs I shall be lain
In a mound of white sand.

The lyrics speak to me about the fate of any small country and its unique traditions towered over by Leviathan neighbors, eager to absorb and obliterate its the Brobdingnagian's manifest destiny, of course! - a native culture.

A wolf drove me to Riga
For fathers tobacco.
Pull, wolf, though it makes
you weep,
Why did you eat my horse?

Related comically to my first comment: The burden and shame of the "conqueror".

Smoke is rising, bread is
being baked
In this little farmstead,
I like warm bread,
I like the baker herself.

What is charm? See above! Theres much to be said for brevity music and poetry aplenty in these bucolic words.

*From: Latvju Dainas: Latvian Folksongs favorites in English, Russian, German & Latvian. Compiled by Krijānis Barons (1835-1923) Riga, Latvia, Writers Union of Soviet Latvia. 1984.

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