Šaltinių šnektos tekstai

LIETUVIŲ KALBOTYROS KLAUSIMAI, XXX (1993) PERIFERINĖS LIETUVIŲ KALBOS TARMĖS Elena GRINAVECKIENĖ TEXTS IN THE ŠALTINIAI DIALECT The texts presented here are disconnected dialectal texts, concerning present-day everyday life, in the local Lithuanian dialect of the village of Šaltiniai, Dieveniškės rural district, Šalčininkai district; they were recorded by me in phonetic transcription1 during a local-history expedition on July 2–14, 1990, from residents born and raised here: Jadvyga Staniulienė (born 1921), Tamys Staniulis (born 1920), and others. This Lithuanian Dzūkian dialect, spoken by seven families of long-established Lithuanian residents of the village, is peripheral and has very active contact with local varieties of Slavic languages—Belarusian, Polish, and Russian. Mainly as a result of the spontaneous Belarusianization of this region in the past, and also of the Russification policies pursued by tsarist Russia and the Soviet Union, Lithuanian today has lost its social prestige here; it can be said to have been pushed out of public life and to have become primarily a family and home language. Nevertheless, its entire linguistic system, like the consciously maintained Lithuanian spirit, is independent, living, flexible, and expressive. This is best seen in the texts presented here. About 74% of the lexicon given here is purely Lithuanian and contains many rare archaic elements, in many cases not widely found elsewhere in our dialects, and often absent from them or undocumented until now. The many Lithuanian minor place-names of this village—baž'nic'aviet'e ‘Church Site’, dz'irv'ėl'e's ‘Little Fields’, g'ėrvišk'is ‘Gerviškis’, krašč'in'is laukas ‘Edge Field’, kū'dra ‘Pond’, lap'el'ų kalnas ‘Hill of Little Leaves’, marg'elūkai ‘Margelukai’, pulk'ino kalnas ‘Pulkino Hill’, šė'dz'imo's ‘Sitting Places’, sū.ntak'is ‘Confluence’, and others—have undergone no Slavicization. With all the phonetic and derivational features characteristic of the dialect, they are often still actively used by local Belarusians as well. 1 The texts are presented essentially in the same phonetic transcription as in the publication "Lithuanian Dialects: A Chrestomathy". Vilnius, 1970, pp. 10–14, though a few details here have been somewhat simplified or differ. Except for the marking, with a dot at the lower right of the letter, of the first element of falling diphthongs i, u + l, m, n, r and u, which to our ear is pronounced half-long (cf. earlier recordings of these dialects tų. mūsu, p'rigam'n's'u—LKT Ch 356, 358): p'į.lnas, dū.l'k'es, ap'er.uč, the length of the separate elements of other diphthongs and vowel combinations (which are always long in the dialect) is not marked when it cannot be determined precisely: l'ėpəm, ėinam, taukuoč'i. The softness of consonant clusters before front vowels is not marked, except for clearly soft l, p: žv'irbl'is, pap'jov'ė, šāl'č'is. After hard r, z, the vowel i and the diphthong ie after r, š, ž are retracted and do not change to i: rink'č, kazis, kuriei, šenas, kazen'ė. The i after š, s is also only slightly retracted: iššlav'ė. Retraction of n before k, g is indicated by an elongated loop of the letter: d'ing'a ‘covers’, lank'ic'is ‘to sway’. 134 The long-established local Lithuanians value and cherish their parents’ language, know old Lithuanian songs and sing them, but do not pride themselves on being Lithuanian in the presence of speakers of other languages and have no conflicts with them over it. Their main connection with our standard language is television, which nearly everyone here has, and the children who visit and come from other parts of Lithuania to help their parents. People here have little schooling; most completed only one or two grades at a Polish primary school, and they hardly read Lithuanian (or Polish) newspapers. There are no school-age children in the village, and hence no school. Since 1990, Lithuanians from nearby places have also been moving into the homesteads of people who have died out in this village, with the aim, among other things, of opening a Lithuanian school here. Living intermingled with local residents who have become Belarusianized, all the Lithuanians have learned the local Belarusian dialect well and ordinarily use it to communicate with all Slavic speakers, including the Russian-speaking officials of this area. Communication in Belarusian has given rise here to spontaneous Lithuanian-Belarusian bilingualism: local Lithuanians speak Belarusian fluently, sing Belarusian songs, and differ from Belarusians in no way (it has only been observed that they are less [unclear], more orderly, and more honest). Often, without feeling any awkwardness, they readily insert purely Belarusian, even un-Lithuanianized, forms of individual words into their Lithuanian, e.g., n’echoj’ ‘let’, pasvōjemu ‘in one’s own way’, prā’ma ‘straight, directly’, zā’ra ‘right away’, dachōdz’ic’ ‘matters, concerns’, and others, although, according to our estimate, words of Slavic origin make up about 18.5% of this Lithuanian dialect overall, while calques from Belarusian account for about 7.5%. The older local Lithuanians also know Polish. They use Polish mainly when praying, reciting prayers, and performing other Catholic religious rites. Despite the fact that the Lithuanian dialect of Šaltiniai has long been surrounded by Belarusian and actively encroached upon by foreign languages, the texts we present, recorded by ear, clearly show that its roots are still alive and its foundations strong; they accurately reflect its principal current features in phonetics, accentology, morphology, syntax, lexicon, semantics, and phraseology, the way of life of the people of this region in the past and present, and bring out further trends in the dialect’s development. Based on the inconsistent conversion of the standard-language diphthongs am, an, em, en into um, un, im, in (e.g., b’indz’ina ‘gasoline’, d’īg’a ‘covers’, duōksc’is ‘roof’, apzgūndo ‘got frightened’, bruōktas ‘branktas’, kam’iñ<kameñ> ‘where’, lū.ngas ‘window’, grī.ndz’im as ‘floor, barn floor’, kuōmpas ‘corner’, p’ēč’ad’iokst’ē ‘oven lid’, lanta ‘board’, p’ink’el’i ‘five each’, praslūb’k’a ‘bends back’, undūsc’ ‘to hit into’, unk’isc’ ‘to insert’, tunk’ē’sn’is ‘denser’, sūpū.nc’o’c’ ‘to tie up’, but: anksc’i ‘early’, bams’ē’c’ ‘to thump’, dangūs, lañda ‘goes in’, rañko’s, tãmsu, pusantaru ‘one and a half’, sužgamāždž’iji ‘crumpled’, neišsikloję (of flax), vandoj ‘water’, skambūt’ai ‘little bells’, and others), the dialect is transitional between Eastern and Western Dzūkian (cf. also J. Lipskienė and A. Vidugiris. The Dieveniškės Dialect // The Grammatical Structure of the Lithuanian Language. Vilnius, 1967, p. 187). 135 In the texts presented, especially valuable is the stratum of old Lithuanian vocabulary still used actively in the dialect, elsewhere hitherto unheard or unknown. Thus, the old terms for Germans, vó·k’is ‘German man’ and vó·k’ė· ‘German woman’ (e.g., anó·s t’ė·vas vó·k’is / o·mo·mà ar vó·k’ė· / n’ežnà), were recorded here for the first time in living Lithuanian speech. Their cognate Wokia ‘German woman’ had hitherto been known only from old writings (by J. Bretkūnas, M. Daukša, and others). Also previously unheard anywhere is the purely Lithuanian noun sùlstis, used here in living speech with the meanings ‘juice’ (: ko·pà·stu· dáug sú·l’sc’ies) and ‘brine’ (: bro·l’ien’ė· sú·l’sc’i· nó·g m’ė·šò·s p’il’a mà daržàn). The adjective pietùmiškis ‘southern, southerly’ (: p’ietùm’isk’is p’ienas šul’n’i) probably also originated in the Šaltiniai area. In the neighboring Lithuanian dialect around Armoniškės, the very rare adjective pietùmis ‘southerly’ (LKŽ IX 933) is an unquestionable pietùmiškis tėvas. The word viralai ‘vegetables’, a word of Lithuanian formation used here, has now also entered the Lithuanian dictionary for the first time (: ito·s žò·l’es daržusà pre· v’iralo· àuga; v’iralai šie m’ėtai prasč’i· l’i·tus n’el’jo· iš pavà·saro), as have instrumental-case adverbs of time kokįadien ‘on which day’ (: ko·k’ùojdz’ien v’ištu· paso· dz’inai), tájdien ‘on that day’ (: tuojdz’ien c’ìbul’as sodz’inam kàb g’ėl’č’us), tuojkaft ‘at that time’ (: tuojkaft aš aps’irg’ì, buvà), and others. Also noteworthy are other Lithuanian (or Lithuanian-origin) words recorded here for the first time, now added to the treasury of our native language’s vocabulary, e.g., bakan’ė·l’is ‘rendering pot’, brazdz’ánka~brazdžiánka ‘flat cake’, k’epsn’ė· ‘one who has eaten blood cooked in a pan’, krimsl’ùkas (~krimsliukas or kremsliukas?) ‘cartilaginous tip of a tail’, lañk’i·c’is ‘to bend, sway’, pasaujù ‘by the handful’, priėse· ‘front part’, rušuc’is ‘nut’, suzganždz’i·c’ ‘to become unentangled’, sv’iršn’à ‘lever’, and others. A good number of words in active use that occur rarely elsewhere in our language are also recorded here, e.g., g’ėluon’ė ‘sting’, išru g’ės ‘whey’, juos’ėlė-tas ‘striped’, m’erg’ì·štė· ‘girl’, pakàrtuvai ‘hangers; crossbars’, pà·kuralas ‘kindling’, (nu)šl’ù·c’ ‘to (be)turn’, raižùkai ‘scars on a cow’s horns’ (raižas was known with this meaning only from old writings—LKŽ IX 92), sm’il’g’in’ė· ‘temple’ (until now, the latter was known only from old writings, without an accent mark), susc’ìpc’ ‘to congeal (of fat)’, še·kai ‘sedges’ (probably), šr’nai ‘here’, t’ina, t’inu ‘there’, v’i·zd’ė·c’ ‘to search’ (especially valuable is its athematic present-tense form v’ėima ‘searches’, e.g., k’itas v’ėima m’ė·šò·s kuf pre·kaul’ùko). Numerous verbs belonging to this group have iterative forms but non-iterative meanings, with the suffix -dinėti, e.g., ižb’ė·gdz’in’ė·c’ ‘to run out, fly out’, pan’ėdz’in’ė·c’ ‘to carry away’, pašo·gdz’in’ė·c’ ‘to jump’, pripradz’in’ė·c’ ‘to get used to’, sugul’dz’in’ė·c’ ‘to settle down on’, suringdz’in’ė·c’ ‘to join, tie together’, suslaik’indz’in’ė·c’ ‘to restrain oneself’, sùsto·dz’in’ė·c’ ‘to stop’, und’ė·dz’in’ė·c’ ‘to put’, v’ėdz’in’ė·c’is ‘to breed’, and others. The dialect’s living old terminology is fairly well represented in the texts, e.g., klasc’ì·c’ ‘to push through’, klasc’ì·tuv’ė· ‘pushing tool’, m’enc’à ‘fulling implement’, sùmenc’ùoc’ 136 ‘to finish fulling’, šaudž’iklė ‘shuttle’, šafkšnas ‘a snow crust strong enough to support someone walking on it’, vė’c’iklė ‘winnowing basket’, v’efps’tė ‘millstone spindle’, v’ilkó·danc’is ‘black piglet’s tooth’, v’í.ŋkšna ‘stubble’, and others. The texts also bring to light hitherto less widely known, specific, specialized meanings of some dialect words, e.g., gūdas ‘a common local resident who has forgotten Lithuanian, a Lithuanian who has become denationalized’, gu’šta ‘a place where a bird lays eggs’, l’įzdas ‘a place where a bird nests’, jaun’īk’is ‘new (moon)’, jaun’ikl’is ‘the younger one’, rietuv’ė ‘a pile of uncut firewood’, sc’írta ‘a neatly stacked heap of chopped firewood’, pap’í.l’c’ pautūs ‘to place eggs under a hen for incubation’, vó’šč’is (of fat) ‘to separate (from the fat)’, and others. The texts reveal many other semantic dialectal features rarely heard in our other dialects, e.g., kansomólika ‘a hen of the Leghorn breed’, p’iktas ‘inside out’ (: p’iktà audzìmo· šal’is), p’írštas ‘a branch of thread; a part of the plough to which the ploughshare is attached; a fork tine’, žãgaras ‘branch; offshoot; a broom twig’, and others. Semantic dialectal features are particularly numerous among the dialect’s prefixed verbs. Thus, verbs with the prefix un- also have meanings characteristic of the prefixes į- (: undãšč’ ‘to hit into’) and at- (: unšó·kc ‘to bounce back’), while the prefix at- also gives verbs meanings associated with iš- (: atn’es’ó·c’ ‘to carry out’) and nu- (: attráukc’ ‘to cut off’); the prefix ap- is sometimes also used with the meaning of per- (: apšv’íesc’ ‘to shine through’); the prefix in- is often used here with meanings of at- (: inlaizdz’ín’ėc’ ‘to release’) and ap- (: insùkc’ ‘to wrap around’), while iš(si)- also has meanings of nu(si)- (: is’imì’šč’ ‘to urinate’), pri- (: išlaksc’íc’ ‘to run up to’), and pa- (: išdv’ėsc’ ‘to die’). The prefix nu- also gives verbs the meaning of už- (: nud’erė·c’ ‘to yield a crop’), while pa- also carries some meanings of at- (: pašãldz’íc’ ‘to cool down’), iš- (: pag’ísc’ ‘to hear’), nu- (: passùkc’ ‘to turn away’), and su- (: pan’ešó·c’ ‘to wear out’); pra- also has certain meanings of iš- (: pravar’íc’ ‘to drive out’); pri- has some meanings of pa- (: prisù’dz’íc’ ‘to salt’), su- (: prišálc’ ‘to freeze’), and už- (: pri-g’í.mc’ ‘to be born’); and su- also has meanings of nu- (: shstó·c’ ‘to come to a stop’), į- (: sup’í.l’c’ ‘to pour in’), pri- (: surĩšč’ ‘to tie to’), and už- (: sušãldz’íc’ ‘to freeze’), and so on. The texts contain lexical dialectal features whose meanings in the dialect have developed differently from those in the standard language. Thus, derivatives with the suffix -uma here most often denote not abstractions (cf. LGK I 311-312), but concrete, physically manifest objects, e.g., č’ūrštuma ‘sediment’, ilguma ‘length’, drè’gnuma ‘moisture’. Unlike in the standard language, derivatives with the suffixes -ickas, -à are not diminutives here (cf. LGK I 580), e.g., s’áarickas ‘narrow’, žùl’ickas ‘gray’, pló·n’ickas ‘thin’. Derivatives with the suffixes -inis, -ė and -iškis, -ė, formed from the names of grandparents and parents, express a patronymic relationship and stand in place of the surnames, which are uncommon here, e.g., mac’iek’in’o· tam’išk’o· fėl’kà ‘Feliksas, brother of Tomas (Staniulis), son of Motiejus’, č’epùk’in’o· fėl’iks’išk’o· marc’o·s mo·tkà ‘the mother of the daughter-in-law of Feliksas (Staniulis), son of Steponas’, and others. This dialect feature has not hitherto been discussed in any detail and has gone unnoticed. It is a rather important lexical archaism. 137 There are also dialectisms in the texts that have arisen through the lexicalization of phonemic features of the dialect. These are mostly various loanwords not entirely familiar to the dialect, which have entered it in modern times, or some of its relic phonetic forms, e.g., č’īno's (‹ šynos) ‘the rods of a fishing weir’, eksp’īrinas ‘aspirin’, ā’sma ‘asthma’, katarā’ka ‘cataract’, skarvadā ‘oven’, karlā’kas || karlō’kas ‘Colorado beetle’, calafā’nas ‘cellophane bag’, č’īl’īvizo’rus ‘echoscope’, tū’lis ‘tulis’, as well as g’ēl’č’us (‹delčius) ‘waning moon’, g’ūra ‘kvass’, gražav’i.rba ‘graužavirba, a kind of small fish’, purkšč’īmai ‘aerosol’, č’urštumà ‘dregs’, isiž’ō’v’ē’lis ‘one with mouth agape’, skrandz’us ‘stomach’, etc. Among the words newly used in the dialect we find dainūoto’ju ‘singer’, dūjin’īoku; m’išku; kāimu; č’īng’in’ī ‘lazybones’, k’āušū ‘egg’, etc. The vitality and expressiveness of the dialect are shown by the phraseological expressions recorded here, e.g., ‘to twist one’s tail’ meaning ‘to wriggle out of something’ (: vaikai suka vuod’egu’ | n’esā’ko’), ‘to fall from the sky’ meaning ‘to get something for nothing’ (: iš dangāts n’iekam n’eprib’īrē), ‘to rub someone’s nose in it’ meaning ‘to shame’ (: aš atnē’s’u kv’itu’ ir patrī.ns’u nō’s’i: tāu), etc. The texts also reflect some ethnographic features of this region. Particularly noteworthy among these are names for games rare elsewhere: gūžta šōkti ‘to play gūžinėti’ (: pašōks’im gū’štu’: v’ienām ažrisa ak’is ir gāudo, k’ici b’ēga), lentōn šōkti ‘a game of this kind’ (: m’ergo’s susriñk’i. ēina luntōn šō’kc). In this instance, gūžta could also mean ‘a spread-legged, ruffled pursuer’ and is probably related to the dialect word gūžti ‘to squat with wings spread (said of a hen)’. In the texts, present-day plural forms of the names of places in the dialect or neighboring localities are used interchangeably with older (and more Lithuanian) singular forms, e.g., šāl’č’n’i’kai, but šal’č’n’ik’i, eišišk’ēs, but eišišk’ēn, dz’iev’ēn’išk’ēs, but dz’iev’ē’n’išk’ēn, as well as only gal’s’ā, gal’s’ō’s alongside the Polish Holszany. The texts show that the dual accusative of nouns is well preserved in the dialect (: du spirguc’ū, pautū, ārk’lu, dzv’i k’aulū, žu’s’i, dal’g’i, t’ēl’i’č’ū), that old forms of the allative case are used here (: kalnō’p, namō’p), that alongside the usual imperative forms with -k- there are also forms without -k- (: dū.i ‘give’, ei ‘go’, duod’it ‘give (pl.)’), which, together with the particle te-, also express the optative (: teei sv’eikas, t’ēbū.i), that the verbs lýti, sulāšti, pašvėsti, svīlti, in addition to their basic meanings, also have causative or ‘having something done’ meanings (: audž’imu’in l’ietās t’ēmp’a kat l’īt = to make melt; kō’l sulā’šo = they cause these fruits, branches, and grass to melt; žō’le’s pašv’i’sto’s = made holy; k’aulū sv’ē’lam = we singe bones with straw, sv’ildam’i = singeing we roast; k’āulū nušv’ēlam = we singe clean, plāunam) and so on. In the dialect, both the prepositions až, ažu ‘behind’ and verbs with these prefixes are used side by side without any difference in meaning (: až ravō’ p’ievāle’s | ažū p’iev’āl’u lāukas; ašp’ī.lta vānd’en’u k’ē’l’as ir druskų ažūpī.lta lāsn’āi; v’ēžo· vuod’ega as’isuk’i. iīg’i ā’pac’ū ir pu’koc’āi ažsisuk’i.). This may indicate that the use of neither form has yet become established here. Among the more interesting syntactic constructions, the expression of comparison in as many as four ways is noteworthy, e.g., jō·nas v’īrasn’is až ō·nu; g’ērv’ē mažiesn’ē nō’g bac’ē no’. 138 The sparrow chirps like a magpie; the crow chirps like a magpie. The last construction is a clear Slavicism. Overall, the dialect’s accentological system has been well preserved; however, it has been observed that sporadically one also sometimes hears gru'dus, kaulùs, sto'rùs, brò'kus, pl'ėžò'kus, sm'ėtò'na, ã'sma, katarã'ka, sk'ėròža, and the like, though such instances are rare. The texts include names of places in the dialect, people’s surnames and nicknames, and names of cows. An alphabetical glossary is provided alongside the texts, listing the dialect words (native and borrowed) with their stress marked and transposed into the standard language; for loanwords, their origin is also indicated in parentheses. The words are those absent from the Dictionary of Contemporary Lithuanian (Vilnius, 1972), or whose meanings, and sometimes forms, differ from those given in that dictionary. An asterisk is placed at the upper right of the first occurrence of such a word in the texts. When a word occurs several times in the texts, or appears after several sentences, usually in a different context, the asterisk is repeated. When related words are grouped together under a single entry in the glossary, their common part is separated by a vertical bar, as is customary in works of this kind. The texts of the Šaltiniai dialect constitute the first such relatively extensive treasury of the linguistic (as well as historical and ethnographic) features of a living Lithuanian dialect that is, one might say, almost isolated, offering a fairly complete picture of its linguistic structure and the everyday life of its people. Texts This dialect text contains highly phonetic transcriptions of speech and cannot be translated reliably without a transcription key. 139 The dialect text contains highly phonetic transcriptions of speech and cannot be translated reliably without a transcription key. 140 The dialect text contains highly phonetic transcriptions of speech and cannot be translated reliably without a transcription key. 141 They say, in Lithuania, it was like this: the Indians grew tall, cut down the top of the poplar, and made it so that the nest could be reached. And they had already begun running away; later they made it so they ran away. They sat and sat, and nothing. The starlings used to bring food. I heard that in good years they threw out little ones, as in hard years they threw out chicks. The little ones, too, are chicks, like the little ones of crows. The magpie flies, and all of them do. The little sparrows are small; they come in flocks and fly away. Small ones. To me, sparrows often come in flocks. The sparrow is gray, pale. They always spill it out; it spreads out somewhere and does nothing. Crows only have good eggs, shells. Magpies nest on the ground; the little ones run out. In winter they are afraid of the cold and fly wherever there is no dampness. If you sat without work, you would be healthy. Herbal medicines are good and don’t help. While it is raining. The early summer was cold. Starlings—the wheels are visible to them. We make nests for them in little boxes. They are black, smaller; they are crows. A dog is smaller than a cat. Jonas is taller than Ona. A crane is smaller than a stork. When the potato is dug up, there are big ones too, but otherwise they’re little. Eat yesterday’s meat. You rinse, clean, and put things in order. When it got a little colder, they added some cold ones. The Staniuliai are a family name; Maciekonis is a Staniulis, Čepukinis, Tamškis—they are all Staniuliai. And the last one—my brother—Tamško Felka. They were all called after their fathers and grandfathers. A lot have already died. Gaidys, Steponas, sang Lithuanian songs at the funeral. The threshing floor was in the barn, on one side and the other. We carry oats on one side, hay on the other, and manure on the third. The threshing stands are three, or two, in the barn. In the middle is the threshing floor. You can go into the threshing floor with a rake, or walk like that. The clay is mixed with water, and the straw is beaten with a flail and mixed with the threshing-floor clay. When they cut with scythes, they make ropes from the same sheaves. They put the rope on the ground and lay the sheaves on it, then tie them up. They tie them up by taking hold of the rope. They tie the sheaves with their stems and straw. Two people thresh: one stands at one end and the other at the other. They shake it, so that the grain comes out from inside, then toss it. You stack the sheaves evenly, nicely, in heaps, so that more can be put on. Even after the pounding. The threshing-floor door is knocked by the wind. The doors hold back the threshing. As long as the barn is tall, that many threshing stands there are. We beat it hard. The grain is threshed after the pounding. A thaw came; the cold went away, and now it’s warmer. At the end of the threshing floor we push the grain together; a person sits and throws the chaff in front of him, against the wind. The chaff falls separately, while the grain falls farther away; the grain flies farther off. The grains are heavy, not all the same. The first kind is the grain that jumps far; the second kind is what remains, the chaff. The manure has to be spread around. You rake it, rinse it, and spread it out in rows, all of it. And then, in its place, barley bread; they add potatoes, pour in flour, and that is the mixture. They used to give it to the chickens too, a mixture, only they would take much more flour. They would sprinkle flour on the bran. Bran- 142 What is cut from the flax, and it grows bigger in the grain—on the threshing floor; they cover the flax with something like a screen and dry it. They used to put the sacks in the storehouse; they bring in the sacks and spread out the grain, and the mice come along, and the little mice too. One mouse lies down and blows. The mice eat it; it bursts from the puffing; it doesn’t breathe; it doesn’t breathe clearly. When they used to set traps, they put two boards together and make a little trap; when they set it, it catches them. They make traps from a sieve. They hang little sticks and a wire; it catches those mice. It snaps, and it can’t escape—there are many, many mice. They make a trap in the chamber, in the loft. There used to be grain. When they had finished threshing, the little mouse, the mouse—quickly, it was a mouse that had run away. They make mouse traps, big enough for a mouse, as big as a snout, thick, with little openings, clear and neat. They make the sauna—a little bathhouse—with low ceilings, from pine logs, so that one could stand. Then they build the stove from stone; they plaster it with clay and heat it for a long time, until the stones are hot, until it gets hot. The stones are very big; they beat them down, then it gets hot. They put flax in the sauna, filling it, and each woman takes care that it does not catch fire. The flax dries first; early in the morning the women go into the sauna to steep it. The men don’t soak it. One woman takes a handful of flax and divides it among them, giving each a share. They pick out the flax stalks, the big ones. They count them, saying that there are three handfuls to a thread. When they spin, that is how they spin it, so that when they have free time, they go to the garden and pull greens from the trees. It takes time to let it dry. The brothers’ gardens are here, among the onions in the beds. Last summer they mended a fence and planted onions there. Every year she had no onions, but she did have good ones; when you dug up her onions, there were some, and there was a lamb too. They were so good. It’s a pity; one had to prepare them. The hen was plucked, and they would go. I said nothing. I used to take eggs from the hens. They didn’t grow tall, the brothers’ gardens. They would pull the hens out by their legs; they had two, one was a black hen, and the man climbed up. Kansomolka—the white hen. They were very clever; they went through everything. They had a daughter. She came back. A Jew—such a broad man, no potatoes at all. The greens grew, but the potatoes did not. In the morning, my daughter-in-law rose early and said that a spoonful of beer had dripped from the meat onto her. I said it around the village, I got mixed up about it, and after that I didn’t say for days how much I had seen. Don’t fuss; life goes on. They say it; she says it; it has already run away. I saw a couple—they were sprawling, lying down, and then they calm down again. Whatever is caught and suffocated: the little squirrel is roasted on the grass, where the grass shines. They roast them. The little leaves were scattered up above. I used to gather them from the meadow, but I can’t do it quickly now. They don’t sit in the evenings between John and Michael. I have to boil the potatoes. I put the meat on the stove and stewed it in the pot, then ate it where the potatoes were. There is a well. Then I put a stone on it. Grandmother is very blue, and she’s already had a baby nine times. I raised my own bones. I heard from people that if you go down to the field at dawn, the road is... 143 krimsl’ùkas* | then láido’s’i jilgaī | n’ėdg’i iõg’i* t’ė’l’u* || sc’īm̄buras* vuod’egō’s im* p’ėc’ū* auksc’āu || if it is g’ėlsvo· pūfvo* aus’isa | v’idīj aus’ū· | then sm’etō’n’inga* | but if švār’o’s | then sā’ko· n’ė’rā sm’etō’no·s* || raižūkai* in ragū· | then they count | the first raižukas three years | and afterward* however many raižuku· | so many years || margā | pral’ieskā* | k’ersā — these are* cow names || and dz’iedūkas* | and the parents called them that || I have seen žāgru· since my childhood days || I myself am v’ir’ausa* | and planted bū·l’bas* | and ploughed* || dzirvō’nas and akmen’īč’ā* || when I let the plough go | its dzefnos* path goes upward and dō·v’ija* the plough || but I press it | I can’t press it down || in* the field oven* of stone || there are many such ovens, and they are large || they were paišvē-žī* then in padmurōuku·* | then those kuf | then prāma* paišriōko·* and the oven’s* are no longer šv’iejėž’o’s, no one stokes them* || ladz’inė·* makes a thin plo·nū’t’ė· | it shines* like a sheet of metal || storūle·* makes them thick, like* margā | like chicken feathers | like little birds* || so we called them margā || šė·kai — we used to mow for the horses | buinā· grass* | it grows thick in tufts* | bā’loj* little kupsc’ūkai*s grow || we used a scythe to mow || kūpstaī* | n’ė’l’igu in those bā’lo·sa* || it makes a lañda | lies down | m’ėgci šusuki.* || we would look for some kind of pagal’ūko·* and find a little* and press it down | we would put it in a ddz’inu·* | put it in something* and carry it home || and here you have to ažm’ėfk’i.* || they say | very g’ėreī* nō’g sādsō· sō’pul’o·* || I don’t know how to say it in the present-day way* || a thick* neck | it fits into the little bottle, ddz’ina* || beside* the drinks I don’t know anything anymore || already in the little bottle it can go sour.* | rag’ | what a thick little one* || it puffed up* | goodness | how thick it is || it has gone sour* | like* for a long time in a little bottle || it also n’es’jāt’c’a* in the ddz’inu· || d’ī’lg’īna* grows up. || we are poor* | there’s no one to walk around* || two children and ā nas* at home, an old woman | have you seen | the yellowish house was empty || ā’n’i’s had four children || šur’naī* would come visiting | and look after them* || one was orphaned* | at four years old || the second was born* || that’s* how it happened to me, they say* || the time came to give birth | she gives birth to children || the sow farrows | and the cow calves | the ewe lambs | the mare foals || the sow grunts | the cow brings forth, that is, calves | the mare foals — that is, has foals || the rooster crows at the hen* (|| m’ī.ndo*) || it settles, where it lays eggs* (|| k’āusus*) | and how it nests* | they say | a nest has to be made | an egg has to be laid* || and the chicks* gather into the nest || whatever is there* | bac’k’ėl’en* | or* kō’sikan* a nest || when the little chicks come out from the side* | the roosters || I lay eggs* | I don’t look* | and it’s better when it’s rinkči* || we m’ėit’ėTuku· izgrā’žīnom* | they grā’žīna* the foals || when* they are left* with eggs* like that || and the cow needs a bull* || our speech is turned around differently* || our* mushrooms are surav’ėško·s* red | yellow | white || ordinary boletes | with a head like a parasol* || boletes | k’īšk’abarav’ī’k’ai* are hard | the k’īšk’abarav’ī’k’is turns blue || the underside of a true bolete is white or* greenish* || a birch bolete* or a l’ėpš’is || what kind of dz’īd’ėl’is grows || rasplūk’i.* like a l’ėpš’is || on Sundays* they sing | I remember it. 144 labai gaidz’ai || kuriej k’aušai* šv’ės’us | n’eprijimc’a* || išv’ėrdz’i | v’nštom šutrup’in’i* || v’išta šė’dz’i* iġġ’i gālu· | kō’l’ v’išt’ė’l’ai p’erė’s’is* || iāuc’as’i* tūk tūk tūk | lāuk’i | kadū praskals || v’išta n’eger’ei* šė’dz’i* | k’aušai šal’i* | sšāldo·* v’išt’ė’l’ai pā’c’is iš’lupa* || o· kad reik’a lūpc’ | ir krāčių pralaídz’a* || b’išk’i* pralukšt’enai* | kap n’edāug’i* | ir n’ėko· || v’išt’ėl’us šaltai kam’in* laik’ic’ | kap c’ik n’edūšna* | v’išt’ėln’i’kė:* vadz’ōja v’išt’ėl’us || pažurė’s’u | ar g’erai kurīnas || žī.rn’u* g’i mā’nas* nó·ri || aš n’eb’ijau kalbū· || kaprisai* žmón’ės | pre· l’ietuv’u g’i·v’ėna žh’dauka* || nu žh’no’ma — kā’im’iškas žmo’gus || kō’d’ė’l ana* iš kāimo· ir v’isus l’iežuv’us* mó·ka || mo’t’erimu* sā’ko· padabariškš’u* || nō·g vaikū· kalbū· prad’ė·jom lāužn’c’is* lietuv’iškai || ir marc’i l’ietūv’ė· || ju· mā’žhcku* mo-ma* pal’iko· || pri·prazdz’in’ėjo·* ir anā* || al’ė* v’is l’ietuv’iškai kap prad’ėdu | n’esšslaiķāgū || ā’nas* l’ietuv’išs* | al’ė* sc’iprai* dār l’ietuv’is || mus’ó-m’erai* raudó’n’i ir bal’c’ī || krupūķem* || makav’i’kas* sc’iprickas* | grā-žhckas* | dz’īd’ėl’i n’éauga | kap išv’ėrdz’i | sl’īdus || rudūško*s* — ja-daug’aus’a v’isadū būna | cēlu* kō’šhaku* pirmoķs’i ju·v’ėntu || kazl’ėkai sl’īdu·s | reik’a aplūpc’ | | bál’c’ickas* pazdā·ro· | o· kap išv’ėrdz’i | sl’īdž’ickas* || l’ietāus reik’a || l’ietūs l’ic’ prad’ė·j || v’iš’ūk’ė*s in kō’tūko· ūžvalka* | kur’ōj g’ėlton’ėsn’ė· | kur’ōj bal’ė’sn’ė· || z’el’an’ānko*s — tō’s skā’n’o·s | reik’a lūpc’ || poudz’el’an’ānko*s žh’lo*s* | kō’tūkai g’ėl’sv’ėsn’ī || rudūško’s is’il’ūķī* || rūdo’s rūdo’s | n’et raudó·no’s | irg’i gardūs grī’bas || grī’bukai toķ’ī n’edz’ick’ī* ir jūos žal’ai* kap m’ėrk’a || pu-kō·c’ai* šv’ė’s’ai žh’lavó·c’i* | ažišsūk’i* | n’et toķ’ī kap v’ilnó·n’ė* | sūgri-b’ais vadzinam katrū n’epazž’stam || einū | kō’ju nūk’ėrtu* ir einū || n’enó·ru sūstodz’i n’ėc’* || n’edūos’u | v’isc’ėk n’ėpad’ėda || m’inuta* šī· | m’inuta t’ī || žh’žmo’s sav’isāi* arc’ī | p’ingk’ī ar šaši k’ilomtrai* || iż galvō’s bira* pl’ūsh’os* || v’iena pl’ūsn’a || p’ilna galvā pl’ūsn’u || tamp’īk’is | važūok || ā’n’is* n’enó·ri as’imdz’ic* | suk’el’ō·c’* reik’a || rū·p’esc’is ir rū·p’esc’is — rū·p’esc’ī·ogas* žmo’gus pāc n’ézh’ino· | kō· b’ijó·c’ | kō· drab’ė·c’ | praskal’ė·l’is kuf || iż dangāus n’ėkam n’eprib’irėj* || galī m’ė·no* gāusi p’iok’is rubl’ūs ir g’i·v’ėķ || k’ėtv’ėris m’ėtu’s s’irgo· gā’lvų | pripažhno· | ku-sklėroža* | išėina | l’īk tai žo’l’ė’s eina | sūgru·žh’na namō· || prismū·čino·* anā pre’g* jāi || plāuc’u· rā·g’is būvo· s’ilpnt’ s’ilpnd’ || gadz’ino’s’i plāuc’ai || mān’ pripažh’-sta katarā·ku* || aš ituOj* matāū ir n’ematāū || daf* v’ėnu matāū || ap’erū.ic* n’edūos’u || ituOj matāū ir ā’datu· īnsv’er’u || aptrāuk’ė:* v’ėnu || ó·ras k’ėic’as’i | l’ietūs || se·d’ė*j* se·d’ė*j agufkai | o· daf* išāugo· || jāū šuvā supranta | kū· aš jùs pal’igādāū* || agufkai sū m’ėdum labai gardū || i· rā· d’e-v’īn’i dantai* ir kās* sāvo· v’ėtu· tūri | n’esšc’īkdž’in’ėja* || daf mažāi k’ienō· ko’k’ī* dantai || unpí.l’k* žh.rn’u· | kad razv’irft* || klāus’u paz v’ėnu· | sā’ko· n’ė mú’s’is* || v’išta palšā* | rus’kā* kat’ė· || t’ėv’ė’l’is bl’ī-nūs žh’rm’in’ūs k’ebdavo· | g’ī.rno’sa sūmala | grā·žu·s geltón’i g’eltó’n’i || tā-šlu· padā·ro sk’i·scāu ir pribriṅksta* || unp’īl’a* p’ėno || av’efsc’ k’ītu· šo·nu· | ir bl’ītnas || skarīn’is | dró·b’ė· išāusta ir iżbálc’inta ir kló·ja po· bl’īnais || aš 145 when I used to come back | it would creak | who was here and was walking around the house || when they dream that I am well || I think through the ends of the weaving and the skirt comes out || the skirt must be woven || when you weave | you bleach it | it becomes white || in rainy weather | when it rains || then you cut it off || the skirts come out with little flowers like little blossoms || I wore them all | I don’t have any || they embroidered them | embroidered them around | and the skirts || whoever doesn’t know how to weave | sews it together like a bag | like a sack || they wash them, sew them together, and swaddle the children | wrap up the children | if they want a skirt || when you snore || when it comes to you || and when it comes to you || and when you manage to take it || I shortened the grass a little | I didn’t hurry | I walked || my heart beats fast, but evenly | like when I was young | you used to hurry || early in the dark || the trumpet vine — a colored vine | it draws water || then there will be rain || blue | green | yellow — three kinds of baskets | three baskets || rye mash was the first drink || we ate mash | drank it twice || we used to put pieces of bread in the leaves || we boiled potatoes with their skins on | made sour milk with small pieces of bread || we grated a little potato | mixed in flour | barley or buckwheat || in a trough | in a wooden tub and in a trough, we put it to bake | and baked it in a small oven || we ground the resin of the Lithuanian millstone with a poppy and an axe | the axe’s handle || we poured water over it | cooled it | poured cold water over it || and put it into the poppy seeds, and made it that way | so it would be tasty || two little cracklings or one | for our own food, all of it || and the fat didn’t run out either || but earlier, when fat was available to you || our dog was called Murza | it was reddish | it froze to death || you won’t understand the name || and they call the dog by a human name || he doesn’t like it when everyone is running around | but he can’t || the dog crowded into a corner | and I tied it around its neck || a fat hen || what did you make for supper | you ate it | what kind of soup || buckwheat | barley gruel with milk || we poured milk into a tin can in the well || sour cream was sweet and rich || when someone had less milk | they ate butter-milk too | made cottage cheese || fresh | fresh cream | it stands | thickens | still cream || a little bowl and a little crucible || when you churn | butter comes together | cream gathers | clumps together and you take it out with a spoon | rinse it in a couple of waters || it rattles || we baked them in clay pots or in tin | tasty || we bake large wheat pies || we sift the flour || with a short, small knife, don’t cut across || we don’t give supper to eat | so the bowels will be empty | like a pig’s || the pig was rolled over | on its back quickly || not just one | you have to help it | hold it by the legs || tie it | you can roll it over easily | keep the blood in a bowl || small stomachs | bags || we bake the blood in a frying pan | with a little wheat flour | fat | and it’s tasty with bread | with pancakes || we dry it | when it bakes | when the bread is left, they make that || that is blood sausage || they make tripe sausage too || from the heart | lungs | liver, their entrails || we boil it | add water | when it is cooked with garlic | salt | pepper, finely chopped, and boil it | and grind it through a machine | and stuff it into the intestines || we pour water into a pot and boil it | so it won’t be green || we spread it 146 in* the clean bottom and press it down to the bottom || we chop it and eat | and call it tripe sausage || you have to stir the blood with a spoon | so it won’t clot || we scald the bones || we singe them, scrape them clean, and put stones or wooden pieces in them | so the intestines won’t dry out | so the steam can escape from inside | so they won’t burn || we scald them right away || we put in kindling | take a handful of kindling at a time and carry it | and singe it over a log | but if there’s no log | we singe it well over a board || we cut logs from the board || we boil the upper intestines || we singe them || then we wash them in a tub | but don’t reach the ground | so the water won’t run off || the legs too | and everything || so they don’t roll around | we put a plank underneath, a little block | stretch them out, and lay the upper intestines on top || cut the legs and pile them up | so they won’t get wet | won’t roll around || then we cut the middle parts || the tripe needs to be soaked || we remove the belly | first we tear it off | lay it on a table || we remove the fat, scrape it off | so it can freeze a little || then the intestines must be put on a rope or wooden stick or some wooden thing or a hook | pour cold water on them | so the fat will congeal || the fat is already congealing | it solidifies || we scrape the bladders || scalded: | singed: | scrubbed: | settled: | squeezed: | smoothed out || the fat separates from the intestines, rolls away on its own || if they are stuffed sausages | you need a knife too | but if they’re fatty | they separate by themselves in your hands || you have to be careful | not to let go of the heart | otherwise you’ll start struggling || they tie the throat || first they remove the bladder | they take it out first and empty the urine || the children can’t blow it up | so the father blows it up | puts a sausage casing in | so it rattles || the tripe has to be thoroughly squeezed out || they separate it || squeeze it out to make it easier, from under the ribs || the intestines are long and made easier to handle || the thighs have | two forequarters | two hindquarters | rear ends | rear ends || the hindquarters have more meat | but the forequarters | those shoulder blades have little meat | more bone || the spine || the thighs, when they are thicker | are cut without the fat | we cut off the fat | cut them into four pieces | put them aside to salt || when they’ve emptied the insides | then we cut off the head || there is a lot of blood there || put it in the snow | so the blood will wash off || they put the small intestines through a thin casing | take a little from the end, boil the manure out | pour water into a little pot | pull it back | and scrape it clean | rinse it and wash it again until the water is clean || we scrape the casing with a knife || you have to get it | whole | not torn || the thickest intestines are large || the fat has to be tied on | we turn it inside out and wash it || we cut open the belly and scrape it clean with a knife || I keep explaining it this way || the weather sign — when the forepart is thick | the beginning of winter will be cold | but when the hind end is thick | the other side will be cold | spring will be cold || people are all kinds || when travelling around the world, they listen to everything || my husband has some sort of trouble with his stomach || my daughter-in-law is from Rusnė || was it my daughter-in-law’s mother or father who was from there | I don’t know which || someone from Rusnė went to the town of Prienai || they tried it but don’t want to eat it || what does your father do in the barn || we salt our meat with nothing || we salted it | you have to salt the meat || at slaughter time they mostly boil and eat it themselves || we pour salt water over the meat and cool it || water’ 147 doesn’t keep | we are tied together* | a bit rough || I am when they chopped the axe* | wouldn’t recognize you* || they chopped with an axe carefully* | and when you’re supposed to chop like this | it gets yellow | it isn’t so rough || everything takes time* | good health || we made little dumplings* || with sons* | many they send away* halfway || they make little cakes* from fat || like the old-fashioned bread cakes || we make them from buckwheat* for the poultry || poultry cooked dry* | we pound it with a pestle* | rough | strong* | and afterward nothing | it softens and softens and it doesn’t bake at all || the buckwheat hasn’t yet been ground off the lips* | and now one wants to be clever* | oh, a clumsy fellow* | he’s already stuck* | when he’s already a cavalier | and a show-off* | a fool | a foolish one* | a badly baked one* | how badly baked || women will have to be asked | because he is a clumsy fellow | they call him a clod || I was lost | I went with the dogs* || to get lost | the village is low-lying | but the hills | fields | and here the spruce grove is so tall | dense | the spruces—you can’t get through* || and I’m walking and I’m frightened || the little dog ran out of the spruce grove and I hear | he is calling the little dog || I’m walking quite straight* on my feet || my legs trembled* | they became like rags* || I’m walking | the little dog returned* || I went out without even jumping from the spruce grove* | I looked around and sat down || I stayed.* They became bad-looking | I found two bundles* || I spoke* | it was easier to see* || all my hair tangled into mats || there is one on every leg* || and he cut it off* from the mat || they cut mine off | my head hurt* || it looked good for a while* || I faint* | I grow dim | and now I can’t do anything || I go there and I work again like a horse || and it happens again || another woman came and spoke* || and she herself already recognized my disease* || last year both died* and I happened to see them || they took me to the hospital | put me in the incubator* | I was diagnosed || and what is it that I am ill with || a daughter* | if I had obeyed | it would have been told || from nowhere* nothing* and it’s a trifle that’s needed || my eternal* father beat us and fell || I was a little scrapper* | I left the Polish sixth grade || I wrote in Polish | I don’t know how to write in Russian || patience (|| endurance*) is needed || I worked for years || we give everything to the children* | what can you do || he was a drunkard* | a spendthrift* || a man from a rotten* family | of a family of wizards* || my mother somewhere also had another one || after baptism, his wife drove her away* || the wheels are ready | it takes a long time to wait || I don’t really believe in them*—in the water sprites* || sledges* | little sleds made of spruce wood or birch || the runners* quickly get crushed | if made of birch | they bend* || the dogs’* collars || goats* | what they pull from behind* || they go with sleds and goats | already a heavy long load* || they go with goats | the goats follow, tied in front of the load || the posts* that creak* || the sleds are loaded* at the front || they already dug their trench, the thieves | but I didn’t see || what is there, that* is about one and a half metres in the station* || they load the goods and drink || they delivered the fodder* || keep it for two days, and that’s it || and if it isn’t, then he drinks too and doesn’t give me any || if I didn’t pity you | I’d buy it and treat you* || he shouts | where it’s put | where it’s hidden* | whether* it’s here or what | what kind of devil is showing* | where the vodka* is put | and 148 he shines | and finds it || he gives me five rubles | and my nose is blue* || already getting old || did you boil the potatoes* || they need to be ground || when I listened* and the lungs got well* | the lungs began to heal* | they are healing || the thieves began to show themselves || I was wandering* around the hospital || where would you have lain || I didn’t see him || where by the stove | I’ll suffocate* || sitting | I went to eat and it was good || when* we grind the grain* | then there’s a lot of dust || in winter eight of them leave | eight return || I had two cows | two heifers | two pigs | two geese | two cats* | two scythes | two sisters | two piglets | I tend them | with the horse | the birch || the sow farrowed, and then three more piglets | I used to graze one and work the fields || he put it down just a little* and I still went to the kolkhoz || the kolkhoz no longer paid me || how much they ran around there || and in winter I alone would mow the little plot* with a sickle, about three of them || then there wasn’t any bothering^ and no trouble || you think | we didn’t have livestock | perhaps || I still have something of my own | we had few since childhood || one goes and threshes until night || but now as I’ve grown older* it’s hard for me and I need to give him my coat to wear || on a cart* with two little horns* || behind the reins* I twist and twist | until I lift it || but when I’ve lifted it | it’s easier for me | easier to lift than to lift back down || summer is shorter | but when it’s rye harvest | it takes a long time to thresh || then mother is already getting to work (|| starts working*) | she lights the fire | she threshes a little earlier* | threshes more || the weather is like that || I loaded myself with lupines* || in the afternoon it’s harder to go | the flies* bite || it was left standing* there, a barrel* with flour || when* the threshing floor is bigger | then they build more there || a little bell* for the cow | so that it can be heard, where she is grazing* || my head doesn’t hold together, I think, from the cold* || it changed in every way* || the bridle rings* around the horse’s neck like* necklaces | such thick leather straps || the bridle rings are little round rattles* || wolf-toothed* little pigs are grey | very long || when* they’ve cut them off | then it’s good || it hurts* and stings | what is it that’s twitching* there || our piglets were left behind* | bumps keep appearing* on their necks | pus comes out of the nose || the people are unwell | they’re getting sick* || at one time the pigs were very sick | they were getting sick in the mash tub | the piglets were carried away* || they beat the trees* | the meat was given to the Jews* | but they boarded up the doors* || people came and said | give us those doors || and they came | and weren’t afraid of illness || I stuffed the bag with sausage || I sat down | you had them for the whole autumn || what kind of miller did you think of* || we fed the piglets* and sold them to the Jews | exchanged them for flour || the little females are like horses | thick-bodied* | as tall as a man* | but thick | white || he doesn’t hear well* | tell him that* || alders* | marsh | alders grow | swamp* || snow crust* on the snow | you can walk through the snow | the crust holds || they tied themselves* | so the horses wouldn’t stumble* | they go barefoot | of wire* | how thick || the wheels | when empty | but the load | when loaded || a homespun blanket* | linen strips* | both | a kind of shirt | the ends are cut off* | so it can be fastened firmly* || a little scythe* | handle and scythe blade | a wedge* and a little notched piece* press it down || sharpen the scythe || one has to endure it oneself among the old women with a mallet 149 || whoever doesn’t know how | doesn’t straighten the scythe | and doesn’t sharpen* it || they tie* it | carefully* sharpen it | according to the scythe’s edge | and they say to themselves* || the scythe handle | o· it was* made of wood* || how much* wood | how much is needed* for the scythe | that makes a scythe handle | for the scythe || a birch* and a birch sapling* | then | where it is allowed to grow || we* used to cut* them | oh, hardworking | oh, works — all day | and all night || she* felled* a pine | cleared it | piled it up* | all sorts of things were laid out* || a bridle** for the horse || I put a harness on the horse || it carries fodder | such little loops were made | wickerwork | wooden* ones and with little ropes | they wove it into little baskets || and put in the fodder || why does the horse kneel | the cow carries a little calf* || I adorned* the yellow one* with a yellow birch | yellow, yellow it grows || wood* just like a bush || it doesn’t grow* tall | it sends out such branches* down to the ground || the cow fills its belly | if* a branch is wider | it takes the whole thing | but if it is thicker it splits apart || it fills up || a little branch* and whichever one it shoots out || they put in two little loops and wire* | the sieve has to be set up properly* || the little loops have to be opened out and stretched | so that there is a place at the beginning for a pair of sieve rods to be put in* || then they weave on and as many as they want to set up* | and each little stick is shorter || the loops are of spruce | and the sieve rods are spruce* branches || at the bottom it weaves in the roots* of the birch* || it pulls in* the roots || the yellow birch is stronger* | its roots break || it also weaves little handles* of wire* || once upon a time* | when I was young || our* flax wasn’t weeded || the seeds | when they ripened* | then we sowed || it has to be weeded || bend down and pull the weeds* | loosen it* a little | then turn it over* || the spring rye* | the windrows were* and the flax || the thistles sting* | the wind blows* and blows | it shakes* the rye* || the windrow* gets too much of it || when the seeds are clean* | they are not there || flax is picked in handfuls || they pull it | take it home || make a rack and hang the flax on the rack || they rake* those handfuls | onto the racks | on the racks and dry them || they beat it with a flax-breaker* | laid it on a threshing floor or on a barn floor | until the bundles separate completely* at the top* | then it breaks apart | it gathers and is beaten by hand | but if not yet | it holds together in a tangle.* It still needs more work || women soak the flax || they soak it | it needs to be combed* || such combing tools* were made of wood* || set up such a post* and beat it with handfuls | until the chaff* comes loose || the husks are taken | it will be rainy || scutching boards* were made | nailed on* wooden teeth, each thing* || we comb it | the tow and the bundles cling together || then we comb through the thicker ones || the clean* flax is wet, the tow gets combed out || those kinds were the shuttles from the shed* || we spin* handfuls in* our hands | and the rest we comb and pick out* the tow || the worst tow is spun thickly | thick sacks are made | and the other kind | is already for sheets || they used to card it* | spin the yarn || she combed the shirts for herself and wove them for her mother* || we wove the flax* after combing it | sewed shirts and linen cloth | they used to sew in* rags under the armpits || tall flax plants grew* || it gets musty and rots || they twist ropes | leads | make halters* | bags || sparrows* eat hemp || all the birds* fly away* | only the sparrows remain || willows like yellow birch* || their bark* is lighter, 150 it is adorned* just like a birch* | || yellow birch has little leaves* || it is* not thick | it spreads* from the ground || the birch leaves glitter* and the bark || buds* bloom and spread* just like white ones || they don’t grow very tall, and small ones grow somewhere | but they spread || when* it spreads* into a bush | it goes in and goes out | that is how it spreads from below. || they strip* layers from the linden for rods || difficult to weave* little baskets* from wire* || the wedding guests* drink. || that’s what they do || the milkmaids’* dresses are yellow, yellow ones like that || tansy* | I gathered tansy || the eyes sting* || that too is medicine | it cures a sore throat || when I’m unwell || even yellow ones || in the old days they used to spin them.* || when they began to bring wool* from Vilnius | then they began to spread it there || the herb came from Vilnius || a nettle | the nettle is low || you need to gather nettles* || those herb leaves are cheerful* | greenish* | even with thorns. || hazelnuts are round and shelled || hazelnuts* grow in the ground* || poplars* send out little buds high up in spring || medicine is on hand for the cough | rowan berries*. || the hair came out beautifully | little was left || where would you get that much* money | at home || how to comb it out | how to get it all done || they talked it over* with people || peonies — they were beautiful in the garden* || they bring a whole little dress for the children and a hat* || rowan berries turn white || at first they are yellow berries | and then red || in winter | when they freeze* | they are very tasty || they disappeared.* the months || you pulled them out and it was good | where those were* || don’t give your life away | gather* the people and take them away || they sowed* saltpeter || they planted it | and then it passed || they might get there || they spoil* completely || you have to go spoil the grain || perhaps there is barley || burdocks* like spinach, tasty | tastier than spinach | even the Jewish women would walk around collecting them and collecting rye plants | and they are tasty, sour || we boil the burdock leaves* | crush them* | rinse them | so they’ll be clean || drunkards | they eat a lot and gather them || if they eat too much | then their heads spin | but if not much | then nothing happens || not so many of those berries | as those mushrooms that make your head spin || a little* wind blew and they cooled off* || mixed them* | they used to stew them in* a pot || crow’s garlic* grows in rye or wheat | for medicine | when* a cow cannot calve* because of a calf* || then they boil it and give it to her || even* a black bread broth | a broth || horse-radish* grows in the meadow || we boil the horseradish* | it’s food for us | tasty, good* || horse-radish is also very bitter || willow* grows from the root || dog’s-tooth mushrooms || red-capped* mushrooms are tasty | the honey fungus* grows white at first | turns into a little plate* | gives off smoke || when* they milk the cow: || it chokes* through the throat and inside the honey fungus || the legs go weak || goose-grass* was grown in the garden, the garden was made by a fence || it lays down the hens’ rye* | one of them lies down || the horse galloped* | and lay down again || they fed the hens | one was hungry* | they stick to the ash trees | the flour glitters* || the hen pecks, pecks, pecks in the meadow || in May, why, someone lost their shoes || the hedgehog* appears early in spring || it was coming out of its head || magpies are like hens | they suffocate* the hens | even their little legs || black earthworms* | kroo kroo || worms* | the eels are eating the cows || theirs* 151 he/she is digging* | runs | doesn’t know* | where the uncle is* || the cattle have been driven in* and the cows are standing* in the barn || we peeled some | lice are crawling* || crawled* | crawled* || the pigs scattered through the fields || along the marsh* he goes¹ | swings* | and can’t push through* || he goes¹ by himself, getting up* || I go along driving them¹ || speaking as I go¹ || I eat while combing my hair⁰* | talking* | talking || the child goes carrying hay¹ || I go with her, talking as I lie down || sings* while carrying [something] on a bier* || she* pushed [it] away, carrying [it]¹ | carrying [it] || so that the godmother* could pass more easily, the pain* would go away | it seems | the head has split* || those* have to be harnessed | when it is empty | there is nothing* | just some sort of bundle laid out* || we took the poultry* and tucked it in* || terrible, that the cow won’t calve* || one by one* they can push through* || she* gave birth.* to a turnip || the son went away with eight children. || He* also had two of them* || the cuckoo* remained; [someone] cut off his fingers* || and Jonas* is lame | limping || he got* a crooked leg. || the embers* are already good || the sunflowers* grow beautifully | we’ll shell them | so they can ripen* || all of them dried up* | I’ve gone astray* | those are* the thick* logs* || the onion* stalks have gone to seed || when* the moon* shines and in the garden | the onions are going to seed | when there are lots of potatoes || nothing grows | greenery* in that field || I got tangled up* | the greenery’s* stem is good || gravel is swept clean | the road is gravelled* || we both* already need to grow old || the spools are rolling* on their sides. the logs are* small¹* || rolled into a spool* small* || wood chips for the stove* || chipped for kindling* along the edges | now it’s ready for the fire || the embers are burning* well.* || I soaked* the cloths* | poured water over them | we added ash to the linen | poured water over it* | stirred it* and waited | until the linen water settled* || then we made lye and soaked cloths in it and rolled them | we scrubbed them on the washboard || those who don’t carry it | don’t carry it | [they] boil it || I’ll rub it well* with my hands | I’ll pick it up* and without you || hay is drying in the hayrack || I can’t manage to hold it* | as we go along, we laugh | I talk* | I cry || whoever cries so much* in words | few tears came out for anyone* || that way, it’s not possible to wipe away the tears* || he* talks while sleeping* || the space between the fingers hurts || around the trees* they went || the molehills came up throughout the garden* | they’d only just begun to sprout* quickly || he* came back || it would be* a moth* | they were hatching* little birds* || I gather medicinal herbs and throw them out || it was fourteen years* || where would I have been, and what would I have wanted, if I’d been* || we count | how many spoonfuls of water || it is still dry | rye grows all around and there is nothing to make bread from* || worms in the ground. | the earth spread out.* || there wouldn’t have been* | there wouldn’t have been any honey either || the Jews, the red chamberlain* || I myself collected it and dyed it* | [they] accepted it* | they dyed it in sacks* || mother would have been young and black* || the wind appears || when* it has stretched out | I dye it | he gives a kick || the kneaded dough* can be all sorts of ways* || I divide the dough into halves* || when* it’s dough | I give iron or tin* || with a basin, where will you reach it* || peat water is standing || all around is foam on the water | that is peat* || you won’t wash the collar of the shirt* || he brought an axe and cleaned the logs || and what would happen if it weren’t there, but it doesn’t really take* || it happens that pigs are sickly* | but these are thin* || there was a lot mixed in. | it didn’t come out* || take four fingers’ worth of drops or* more || at our place it’s poured in* 152 the drops of soap are in the box and in the cupboard* and kept closed* || and it lies there fresh* | just cut off some soap from the top | and it’s fresh || every year the drops of soap lie like that at my place, tucked away* || the upper and lower millstones are grinding grain || the box is iron | the handle of the stone || to make it easier to turn* | to hold the stone || the stone has an ear || the lever* | to lift it* and lower the stone* || we fill the little chest* full of grain* || there are already branches* here || you break branches | wood* || so the fire is right in the hearth || that fire of his* | it is burning* | the waters are high* || when he coughs up mucus with a beard right away || his nose is right there like a beak* | blue* || the chamber pot* is placed for him | and from the linden he sweats it out || he gets himself dressed* | they agree | and that’s how they do it || stiff* and woollen || they dry out the fur clothes* || there | do you hear | what I’m telling you || a slate is a large knife | a sledge carries [it] || the bark is scraped with a plane* || splinters | so it can be taken more finely | the boards* are thick | it knocks* the slate off the sledge || the board went away somehow || it’s possible* | something is drawing it || small pieces of wood* | I trim them a little* and hang them in the middle || they hang there || [they] came in with the stirrups* and sat down || they string little bags* onto the branches || we make* from those thick wooden* brooms, or from thick strands of cord* || I don’t see the frames* | I see only where it’s darker* and where it’s lighter to the eye || a jacket* made of cotton | padding and the outer layer | cotton inside || a cotton nose-warmer* for the ears | a collar | with a hood || a sleeveless jacket* without cotton | for summer || a French coat — a shawl* around the neck || it doesn’t do anything* to keep warm || if there’s little covering | you close your eyes* | it makes a rattling sound* | then it’s a bundle || a bundle and a rooster | as though its legs were covered in feathers || ah* | you little bundle || the hips are high | the fist is at the waist* | and here are the thighs || the neck | the nape | the crown of the head | the forehead || on the forehead, an emery patch* || and where there are two — emery patches || she went away looking around, watching || around the little ones || she gives birth* all day || she knocks with her knuckles* | taps* on the log || the ground is soaked* | the frogs will croak* | it will rain || it’s pouring rain* in the furrow || and, poor thing, he hasn’t even managed to get up || bundles of bread, a stack || we didn’t serve and we haven’t || we wash with water on the road || soup with small dumplings* | she boils water* and stirs in flour || and we ate buckwheat porridge* | tasty || [it] slides slowly | like a little beetle || the beautiful dace — a little fish, harmless || she used to cook crayfish | red | the tail like a harmonica* | curled underneath* | with its eyes facing forward || a bed beside the tail | and then in front || its meat is red against the skin* | well, we ate it || the little thing does nothing || I looked | how the fish glimmers || and the fish isn’t in the hole || in winter, a little blood || the night is short* || the evening star has already risen | the morning star | there is already a glow || haymakers* | I see them every day* || it’s still full | there’ll probably be a full moon* || after the new moon* comes the full moon || the flowers* are better to separate flower by flower || flowers, when they are cut, wither* || with that shampoo* the oily hair becomes smooth* || give the old man the meat of a sow* to eat | not that one | the turkey* itself has the toughest meat | it needs lots of fat | but people buy it || beef is wholesome || the gasmen used to travel there || they* planted flowers* there || a couple of ears of corn | higher up, that is 153 grapes gathering. || the wedding guests* | then went* to another job || four of them went* | such a big girl || one like a wolf, she* || the little boy* broke his leg. He was || a young girl* with a small braid | such a tiny one || we drove the cows* in a row || who is this, a beast* and says nothing || the stove-sweeper* grabs the razor* | the dying one* won’t take it now || for the piglets || there’s no good root for the candle* || they sweep* and throw it behind the fence || that one* is a good neighbor || beans* from the harvest || she* doesn’t show anything, says nothing || the axe handle || in those sable pelts, few speak Lithuanian* || a twisted stick | long-nosed | peeled* | and the laborer* | with a hammer | you made that || what others don’t have, | that one* made || I was* a dumpling, I sat down || there are* white ones || my daughters know; they arrived, the brothers* were still here || from her, the hostess* | we already know what she’s like || flour-dumplings* with tails | and waffles without tails || where does she put those tails* | I don’t know || a thick one:* toad* waddles* and everything* || spittle* is in the grass* || waffles and crackling, and she says | she began cracking || the skin* puffed up | scabby* backside || she didn’t go to the toad* to dance || waffles are gone | there’s no white one* | there’s nothing || the farther away* | the uglier it gets || there aren’t many of them* and even fewer mothers || what kind of day* you can hear frogs croaking | you need to plant onions* that very day | very good || the cows* are standing tied up in their places || they got used to it.* They should be peas* || the horse’s lips* are very big* || I’d be out of my mind with worry and restless || his wing* was ahead:* he would be || I’d be out of the willows:* || a net* with hoops || striped*, colorful | the little flames* are red || a little pike* is ordinary* | there are spots* white and black || the tails are straight* along the ground || she got left* across the river and wasn’t caught* | the thunderstorm* || they got tangled* smaller || they say over the river | whose skull* is splitting* | that’s the food || then she takes another skull and hits || there was no heated bedding* | father wasn’t sent off:* || I went to Ešiškės to buy a cow || it was hot || I sat down at the table* | drank beer || when the cow* got me there, I got inflamed* | I tried, I tried, but couldn’t go || like a married man* leading a horse || what should I do | lie down in the wagon | at home with my head || I bought a horse | sat astride and rode home || couldn’t recover* | there’s a fever everywhere || we went to the doctor || he put me in the hospital | started giving me injections* | it got better easily || then we still lived with the brothers || he* came to me and said | what to do with the horse || go into the house and sell it || they went to court and sold it and got twenty-five rubles || I lay for two weeks and then walked well || but to ride home || I was spitting* blood | nobody knew || I couldn’t sleep* || bitė:* g’ėluon’i:* pām’ėta* || nobody did anything to me | when it was swelling | the bee stings from the bark and everything* || hands with sores* || with sores, the herb is best || when it swells | then it hurts right away | the eye becomes inflamed | can’t see || when father died | at home lived mother* and father’s sister || and they fought like* hens || she began and gave, gave, gave || I got used to it | I was angrier at mother* most of all || she was so decent* | small and small 154 it was˙ || and the court was in Galšiai || but Galšiai is thirty kilometers: we’re riding on horseback || and we had to pay for taking the court there || she* would pamper them | you can’t tell || we worked in the shop | she was waiting || we had one horse || nettles* and bee stings* are painful || when a bee* sticks to you | you can’t ward it off | but another one buzzes and flies away || a plough is one stick* | two handles* attached | fastened underneath with two fingers* of wood || they make the ploughshare from that wood* by the smith* | with iron tips on one finger* and the other finger* || and it turns the earth over || the tips are sharp | so they can get into the ground || the rake’s teeth* are oak || a small month | how do you make teeth || the first finger starts to hurt | I can’t endure it* || it aches a long time and nothing helps || a louse* burrows inside and breaks through the skin || when it’s really strong* | then it hurts || like a wooden* splinter* || it keeps hurting || no matter what you put on it | nothing helps || when it’s festering | take a needle and pierce it* somehow || I once had a tiny rabbit* in the back || perhaps the rabbit* was sitting there || the rabbits run in the meadow || I said | I’ll go and catch that rabbit || couldn’t find it | then I picked up a rabbit || the rabbit’s meat is dark | but it’s tasty || from a needle* it makes a hole || he* is very industrious | she’s not like that* | they fooled* people for a long time || now he’s better || if you split the legs a bit | when grazing in summer | they say | the rooster crows | you don’t know what to do or say || there used to be urine stains at night | it gnaws and gnaws and then settles down* || where the cow has urinated:* | it stands there | and it’s cold | its legs get cold || and then everyone is a lord | but there used to be all sorts of things* || there weren’t even lice* || they undressed at home || when the body was clean | you rubbed it and there were no lice || you searched heads || combed and combed with a comb | and rubbed | and nothing, they still undressed || the hair rises up:* | it’s even colder | it turns cold | you sweat || from a bitten hand* | a bitten hand* is a devil’s patch || there used to be such a thing | vegetables grew in the garden, grow like oats* | and the husks* | bloom white || and we smoked them* || grain is good in that husk || and it passed* || when someone washes* | there’s a hand* | when you know | what kind of dog’s hair or water to put out for that dog and then wash with that water right away || and again you dream at night || if you get frightened | spit at once and nothing will happen* or wake yourself* immediately | and again nothing || the wheels came* || you read the newspaper* poorly, know little | then your head is calmer | otherwise anger takes hold | but when you don’t hear | everything seems fine || a wart grows in the eye and we tie it with two fingers* | swing it with a blue thread* | and it disappears || it often grows on someone || the little finger | by the little finger | the middle one* | next to the small one | the small one || when the ear is pressed close:* | not standing out like a ram’s | then it used to be small with a kerchief || still, perhaps the child is suckling* || mother* is nursing | the child is being breastfed || she chews bread and mixes it with sugar* and gives it to suck || one must be the kind that bends* and rocks the cradle || it was still boarded over | but then there were no boarded ceilings | so it was hung || nobody was ashamed yet* || when we were girls | we were ashamed || I envy such a head* || men ride to the night pasture with horses to graze at night | it’s shameful at night || mothers go to reap and are ashamed | 155 p’jó’v’i. The eye is watching, the song is being sung | he goes home from the field, the song is being sung | they’re gathering together, the song is being sung and sung | oh, oh, oh | he won’t hear it¹ || there’s nowhere to go, no time | a hospitable woman stands | she carries the flour into the pantry || the sausage needs to be mixed || well, I settled in the ground | I don’t want to go anywhere || beetles, cockchafers || they were all full of manure || how many more, these little fellows | such little beetles | they want to eat even a bit of straw || we would split the stones | we wouldn’t let much through | just the surface | beetles and little pigs || we keep summer savory in winter || hops | hop cones || nobody knows what else it’s called || he carried them from the swamp | by the river || there was nowhere [to go] | he found [a place] and settled down || the beer is very strong || the windows are shut and shut | one can sleep and stay healthy | [it] tastes sour | [it is] soft || how would I do it | I’d do it that way || one of them doesn’t love the other || she blows on it and on that | and on that || she has two children || the eldest was ordinary | up to her father | old-fashioned || if it’s meant to be | so it will be || only when the grass is in bloom || what sort of grass will there be | when it’s so late || a bundle hung under the window | like at my place || he had to let [them] loose | they were buzzing || she enlightened me in every way | [there was] a fire || after that bottle she gave me this | and just a few tablets || I can’t stand the smell || perhaps the roots lie beneath the fence || if I didn’t hesitate | but [I] hesitated || that’s what she says | the illness is so severe || this year I still haven’t hesitated || I didn’t lick it | when the seed was pressed || I walk from far away || maybe a little rain | but the rain is very salty || I can’t hear it either || the superintendent had already started coming to us || when [he] snores | until he settles down | I can’t fall asleep || fat | potbellied | I prefer it when it’s dead || one rummages around | when you give [it] food | another eats from above | another takes it by the little bone || I can’t find what I’m taking || for example | where did you put the spoon || look | where you yourself put it || let it be, let it be, let it be | the greasy little things don’t wash off || well, not one has died from a little rain yet | nobody turns yellow || all our neighbors are old | so ill | envious || do it, then drink | you can’t hold back | it boils well || when he held back | then he ate better | but otherwise he didn’t eat || the skirt is woven from linen and tow | the warp is black | woven in black patterns | the skirt was woven with wool | sometimes it came out loose || that’s a skirt || they used to sew trousers for men | they used to sew little jackets for men | we would weave them from coarse linen || here are four threads || I would stand and give them to my daughter | I would saw halfway through || only two | only a few rings are needed | those are the ornaments || you took such a little stick and looked | so that it would be on top | you lift it with a loop | then you tie the laces || once you get used to it | you don’t need to mend the loops || I didn’t know how myself | but I used to weave those little ones || the warp is black | but the weft is yellow || I don’t wear it | it just lies there still || it’s a bad country here | but over there it’s a good country || he brought a really bad one | but that one is bleached || here those are spread over the windows | but this is a piece of wood nailed in the collective farm || I take [them] | those veterans who are called | they give [them] to everyone || the hand towels aren’t bleached | the ears can be seen || this one 156 Woven with silk threads and wool || health has been lost || sitting, weaving, and fretting | and tying up bundles || walking around in rags. || She wraps herself in sackcloth || here there are no colors at all | only rags || there are still some linen clothes left. || My daughter brought my woven cloth and my mother | there is no need anymore. || As for our old people, it is good || to weave wool || my beard has grown just like that || I have been wearing it for two weeks | shaving || oh, the dear little calf ran away | the fine horse | the husband | the fine teacher || through the thick smoke || he shaved his beard | smeared on white something | preening himself || his lips were red || as if I had never loved myself || one lip hurts me || a lip | both lips || when they ask me to tell it | I tell it like this too | so that I can leave quickly and go to sleep || ashes, grandfather, | as if a mule were carrying them | and still does not eat || like a three-year-old || good ashes and embers | when food is unpalatable | like children in the smokehouse || as someone recognizes and often says || you will not taste any of it || I said it, and I am still saying it, and still have not eaten || my daughter does not go, | she says, | we do not need the milking pail, | we have enough here. || The children twist the rope, | they do not say | what will you bring that milking pail for? || At our place, to the bogs, to the marshes, they go and bring things back || this silk milking pail was given to my daughter || my sister gave it, when they baptized the grandchildren || I was afraid, | that I might not break it || at home, as it is, | so, the beginning and the end || she died at fifteen, | a little sickly, | then nothing || she turned over and lay down again, | my mother, | when she could already do it like a little bird || I got to know more and more, | they already know me, and still do not recognize me || so she did not lie down; she walked around, then they took her away || There are two posts in the loom || two belts below and two in the middle | to hold the posts in place | to stand evenly || the little pegs in those belts hold them fast || the reel, where the yarn is | wool | a single thread || the little reel turns the cloth | and the shuttle, where the thread is placed || then the heddle | the little wheels, where the heddle hooks on | the treadles, where the heddle is pressed | the reed, where the threads are woven | the weaving comb, where the cloth is woven with wool || I make a frame for the warp || it has four corners || I wind the first thread around the frame | from below, little pegs are driven into the boards along the wall || in that fourth corner I tie the warp thread || so the wall is one | the belt | how many walls there are, I wind around them || putting the warp threads onto the pegs, in small bundles || we take them and measure them | and measure them all the way to the end | we tie them and put them on the reel || we put in two little rods, where the warp threads are separated according to the pegs on the reel || we take little sticks, insert them at the side, and put the warp threads on the reel and spread them across the whole reel || we take those little rods and wind them around with the reel || we put nothing underneath and nothing on top; we lay the warp threads down or sit a child there | so that they can see clearly | and put the heddle in place, evenly || from the little pegs we make little hooks like this | also from a dry branch || we put the wood chips into the shuttle | we hang a stick in front of those belts on strings and wind those strings around the little reel || and then we take that stick and tie the warp threads in front of that stick | separating them with little bits || it is on strings in front of the heddle; it is tied in front of the treadle and pressed | and the heddle— 157 The little one was rising up || the shooter shoots | the little ball* rolls through one little horn* and again presses down* || I got fed up* with those little rags and went off by myself to the little chapel* | I went to look* || half a second* | a half-third* | a half-sixth* | a half-fifth* | a half-eighth* | a half-seventh* | a half-ninth* | a half-tenth* | a half-eleventh* | a half-twelfth* | a half-thirteenth* | a half-fourteenth* | a half-fifteenth* | a half-sixteenth* | a half-seventeenth* | a half-eighteenth* | a half-nineteenth* || are they carrying it away || it won’t finish* | now he can’t do anything either* | the little oak trees* are burning | the teeth* are glassy | the little faces || they are so many* | and piled up || the rye has not been harvested || it got caught on the nails | it toppled over || all the men’s children swam in the river* || what could a little man do || the little calf is eating | the good* cow || the little half* came apart | I gathered up* the oats || little potatoes* on potato tops* | their tops are hollow and sparse | the little piglets are rooting around || go along the right-hand* side* || the right hand | the left hand || go to the left || a Belarusian* | who is Prussian || that Belarusian | did not know Lithuanian | though he lived in Lithuania || little flower buds* were peonies || there is just one little bud | there aren’t many | they picked all the buds | picked them out by the roots || step over the fence || she straddled* the ditch* || that little girl straddles everything. She keeps on doing it | gives nothing | lets nothing through* || the children are struggling* | they started struggling and wrestling || there are so many worms* | they’re even wriggling || they bake one at a time* like* bread | they cut up little pieces of bacon with cracklings or cracklings | beat the eggs* and bake || they sift* and sieve || it began to dawn* | dawn* came | it is already getting light || she goes* with the dishes* during Easter | brings the eggs || the carolers* go about singing songs on merry days || they dance polkas* energetically* | whirling as they waltz || the karobachka dances* in one direction | turns around | goes the other way || the obelisk* spins around* quickly || spinning wheels dance | they dance the quadrille in a circle | everyone stands | one dances | she stands there | oh, the gentleman’s hand* || when dancing the karobachka | they take each other by the hands as they turn || the galop*—they dance even more energetically and use broader steps || we are going to* the evening gathering* | we’ll dance some more, all together* | one person’s eye is watering and ringing* | while others run around || they went off grumbling* | will it be better || I won’t straighten out a single one || my teacher raised me | carried me in her white little hands* || as I walked through the green little forests | I broke off a little branch and struck my little horse over the head || and the little branch fell || what will you do while running around || what have you done? || still, if it hadn’t been there, it would have been even uglier | then I’ll sing | that I knew it || and I’ll bring another one and rub your nose* || she will take that money for herself and put it away || I won’t let the cow out into the field || the dawn* comes, the door opens* and opens again* || it was snowing* | then they tore the house apart* to look at that ticket || and people were quarreling with us too || a person must be a person, everyone || out of sheer misery* I went to the Kazakhs || he is more energetic* | only the little ones in their mid-teens* are capable* | otherwise, nothing | but if they are younger* or from the old ones | then you can hear it* || perhaps they are looking for singers* || it was rowdy* so one had to | sing* || I gave away the horse and the foal || I bought a son-in-law* || I gave my son meat || I tore the child away 158 from the oven* || I cut off* a hare’s little leg || and we sang | and the song* carried on* || when my husband goes to the village | he stays for a few days || no, no, my dear one || I know that girl through her parents || play, play || for how many hours || I kept blinking* || she crossed* the threads into four knots || two little sticks* were inserted* || how much are we estimating* || they take it down* || the blood clotted* | it runs toward* the standing ones* || we threaded little pegs through the belt* | so that they would be stretched* | so the threads would lie evenly* | one thread at a time we sew || we let the blood into the little balls* || it gets stuck* | it won’t stick | it got stuck || he has grown* like a black* man || the fields go uphill || it goes down into that hollow* || that dog is called eglinis* || no one is coming || I went to my own people || to sit for a couple of seconds* | and to have blue* berries || as much as you like || I’ll go* and pick those berries || who cares about him* | to go for a walk | to look around || they are walking around* || the house was in front* || the parents died | one was left || the daughter was still a lazybones* || what sort of light is coming here || I went farther off to that Lithuanian || it rained at night, it didn’t get dark || covered with boards | not walled in || keep the gate || you are pounding || from two, how much is poured* | a pile* | how much we get from one cow || when it is spat out | it is sorted firewood | but when it is loaded whole | it is a stack* || they pile hay up against the roof* || when the sheaves are laid lengthwise, they have to be cut || a little almond tree* is ten feet | oats are five || I give the piglets away || it booms || baked like in an oven | the weather is stuffy* || little songs* and little tunes* || it has already come loose* || that one was left || the nose* is a whole river || little chaff* grows in the chaff || a haystack and a little bundle of hay* || the hay has to be gathered into a little bundle* || the millstone turns like hay too || the hens lay eggs in the rye | lay them in the oats | and thresh the grain* | cut the straw | the grain from the barn flows into the granary* | whatever helps put it into the grain store* || the grain is put into sacks* || but whatever can be hung, they made a floor* for it | they used to fill the barns with grain || the hens* laid eggs | the sheep* || the barns are around the yard || there is no strength in the barn | while | the floor comes out and is clean* || she puts the bread in the oven with a peel | quickly swept* || one needs to fire up the pit* || the firewood lies by the oven | and the kindling* is where it smolders || sleep in the oven in winter || it is good to sleep in the oven too || put the oven shelf* by the oven || the cow chews cud* || filthy | like an oven shelf || they would groan* if someone were chewing cud | it tastes like a lot and not good || ulcers* burst at times | it stirs the insides and starts to vomit* | then one is well || I looked toward the manor* || the lamps* are very good | so it must be said | to tell you* || we’ll begin weaving cloth* 159 Glossary A ābadas (3b) br. wooden rim abiema to both akiš br. aštiš akmenyčia (1) hibr. stony soil akmuō (3b) copper sulfate akvatn|ūs, -į (4) br. wanting or āle sl. 1. and; 2. but āliēras sweet flag amžināšis forever delayed ān|as, -ā (2) 1. he; 2. that andāž|ti, -ia, -ė to hammer in andėdinė|ti, -ja, -jo to put an|dėti, -deda, -dėjo to put in an|grūti, -grūna, -grūvo to fall in an|kimšti, -kimša, -kimšo to stuff in ankīš|ti, -a, -ė to insert an|lėkti, -lekia, -lėkė to fall in an|lįsti, -lenda, -lindo to fit anmė|sti, -ta, -tė to put in, to throw in annėš|ti, -a, -ė to bring in an|pilti, -pilia, -pylė to pour in; to add by sprinkling an|pinti, -pina, -pynė to weave in anstat|yti, -o, -ė to insert an|stūmti, -stumia, -stūmė to push in anšōk|ti, -šta, -o to jump down, to bounce off āpāčios (3b) bottom apāug|ti, -a, -o to become overgrown; to be unshaven aperu|oti, -ja -jo to operate small pillow (1) small pillow apkā (2) br. buttonhole ap|krāuti, -krāuna, -krōvē to pile around apleidinė|ti, -ja, -jo inject ap|lieti, -leja, -lėjo sprinkle over, pour over aplinkōs around aplipd|yti, -o, -ė stick together aplūp|ti, -a, -ė peel off apmatō|ti, -ja, -jo hybrid wrap around apmušdinė|ti, -ja, -jo cover with a blanket apmuš|ti, -a, -ė upholster, cover apnėš|ti, -a, -ė endure, carry across app|lti, -pilia, -pylė pour over, spill over; paste over appratavō|ti, -ja, -jo hybrid tend, weed aprie|sti, -čia, -tė throw around ap|riṅkti, -renka, -riṅko remove, clean off apruūmb|lyti, -ija, -ijo unsew apsilp|ti, -sna, -o become weaker walk around a little hybrid form: to make a mistake become slippery, spoil stop cut oneself with a scythe while mowing hay shine through put on, clothe scorch bring to a boil 1. embrace, straddle; 2. mount arielka (2) Bel. vodka horse sorrel (1) horse sorrel accordion (1) harmonica bad, poor (4) poor, bad artenziya Latin (1) hydrangea asla (2) oven hearth āsma (1) asthma asnavā (2) br. roofing battens atāšija (1) offshoot atāžalas (1) offspring atbėgdinė|ti, -ja, -jo to keep flying in 160 atbėg|ti, -a, -o to fly in atbiránkos (1) hibr. collections atchádai (2) br. waste atdar|yti, -o, -ė to open at|duoti, -duóda, -davė to give ateid|yti, -o, -ė to come at|kelti, -kelia, -kėlė to lift from the ground at|kirsti, -kerta, -kirto to cut down atlėi|sti, -džia, -ė 1. to sell; 2. to assign atmúš|ti, -a, -ė to plane, to cut off atnešiõ|ti, -ja, -jo to carry away at|pjáuti, -pjáuna, -pjóvė to cut off atsisė|sti, -da, -do to squat atsi|skirti, -skiria, -skýrė to jump back separately separately atskirdinė|ti, -ja, -jo to keep separating at|skristi, -skrenda, -skrido to fly in atšlaimas (2) yard attek|ėti, -a, -ėjo to flow in attráuk|ti, -ia, -ė to cut off attrú k|ti, -sta, -o to break off atvažiuodiné|ti, -ja, -jo to keep arriving by vehicle atveždinė|ti, -ja, -jo to keep bringing by vehicle audimas (2) fabric audmenai (3a) weft áuklin|ti, -a, -o to raise, to feed áukšt|as, -a (3) long aukštynaika lying on one's back aušara (1) dawn avirinti, -a, -o to scald oneself azodžiai (2) br. pasturlakos až behind aža|čia (3b) 1. rear; 2. end; -tinis, -ė (2) rear ažáug|ti, -a, -o to grow up aždar|yti, -o, -ė to close aždegimas (2) inflammation aždedinė|ti, -ja, -jo to tie up aždirbti, -a, -o to earn aždusinti, -a, -o hibr. to kill až|dusti, -dūsta, -dūso to suffocate, choke ažeid|yti, -o, -ė to enter ažėl|sti, -da, -dė to overeat až|gérti, -geria, -gėrė to drink up ažimd|yti, -o, -ė to occupy ažīm|ti, -ima, -ėmė to occupy ažkalb|ėti, -a, -ėjo to talk into ažkapó|ti, -ja, -jo to cut down ažkló|ti, -ja, -jo to cover over ažlėi|sti, -džia, -dė to let in až|mėgzti, -mezga, -mezgė to begin knitting ažmerk|ti, -ia, -ė 1. to close (the eyes); 2. to pour over with tar až|migti, -miegma, -migo to fall asleep až|pjáuti, -pjáuna, -pjóvė to cut down až|pilti, -pilia, -pýlė to pour over ažrišdinė|ti, -ja, -jo to tie up ažrišti, ažuriša, ažurišė 1. to tie; 2. to tie up ažrūk|yti, -o, -ė to smoke ažruṃb|lyti, -ija, -ijo to sew a patch on ažseg|ti, -a, -ė to fasten ažsidėg|ti, -a, -ė to set alight ažsiimd|yti, -o, -ė to occupy oneself ažsiklaus|yti, -o, -ė to listen carefully ažsisūk|ti, -a, -ė to twist around ažsivė|sti, -da, -dė hibr. to become established ažsodın|ti, -a, -o to plant ažšūm|yti, -ija, -ijo hibr. to flood až|tekti, -tenka, -teko to suffice ažu behind ažududén|ti, -a, -o to start talking ažukasdínė|ti, -ja, -jo to keep burying ažukás|ti, -a, -ė to bury ažu|kárti, -karia, -kórė to cover up ažu|kimšti, -kemša, -kimšo to stuff ažuknark|ti, -ia, -ė to snore loudly ažu|pilti, -pilia, -pýlė to cover with earth ažusisūk|ti, -a, -ė to curl up 161 ažusivar | yti, -o, -ė to drive oneself ažusivedinė | ti, -ja, -jo hibr. to become established ažustat | yti, -o, -ė to set a trap ažusùk | ti, -a, -ė to tidy up ažuveik | ti, -ia, -ė to become moldy ažvarinė | ti, -ja, -jo to drive in ažvar | yti, -o, -ė to drive in ažvatin | lis, -ė (2) rear ažvèlsti, -da, -dė to organize až|virti, -vérda, -virė to bring to a boil B ba Russian grandmother babùlka Belarusian (1) grandmother, elderly woman bàcas (2) Belarusian rat bacėnas (2) Polish stork bačk|a (2) Russian barrel, -ėlis hybrid (2) small barrel badýlis (2) Belarusian heel bad|yti(s), -o(si), -ė(si) to stab bahūnas (2) Belarusian rooster bakanėlis (2) hybrid fatty layer balà (2) bog baladō|tis, -jasi, -josi to rattle báltick|as, -à (3a) white bams|ėti, -i, -ėjo to knock bámt bilkšt, bakst, bumt bárškin|ti, -a, -o to clatter bártis, -asi, -ėsi to quarrel benzinà (2) petrol berniùkas (2) son beržagýbys (2) fool bèt but only; bèt kameñ anything at all bigsder|ti, -na, -ėjo to click bir|ti, -a, -o to crumble bister|ti, -na, -ėjo 1. to tap; 2. to poke one's nose into biški yok, a little bitė (4) bee blekōnas (2) Belarusian tin can for lowering into wells to fetch milk blėka (1) Russian tin can for baking bliūd|as (2) Russian bowl; -ėlis (2) hybrid small bowl bližg|ėti, -a, -ėjo to shine blògick|as, -a (3b) poor blōzn|as, -a (4) Belarusian immature boikà (2) Belarusian blowfly bolišk|is, -ė (2) a member of Boliaus's family bonkūtė (2) hybrid little bottle brazd|ėti, -a, -ėjo to rattle branktėlis (2) old-fashioned wooden button brazdžiánka (1) hybrid baked flatbread brazgūnai (2) jingles on harness britvà (2) Russian razor brōk|as (2) beet; -ėlis (2) beetroot brolienė (1) sister-in-law brolýs (3) brother budinkėlis (2) hybrid small building buin|as, -à (4) Belarusian lush; -ai in large pieces būlba (1) Belarusian potato buoželė head of a flail bufbalka (1) Belarusian bubble būrka (1) Belarusian long quilted coat burnosas (1) Belarusian woollen coat buzà Belarusian thick soup C calafānas (2) polyethylene bag cetà (4) Belarusian aunt cibulìa (2) Belarusian onion cièl|as, -a (4) Russian healthy; whole, entire; -ai unchopped; cielum cìelickas completely healthy cielió|ti, -ja, -jo Russian to aim to beat cvìklis (2) Belarusian triangular piece of cloth in a garment 162 Ch čambōras (2) Belarusian thyme; čepūkin|is, -ė (1) Stepas's children's household; čertapalakā (2) Belarusian thorny weed; čėsas (2) Russian time; čynos (1) Belarusian switch for punishing people; čyst|as, -ā (4) Russian clean; čyst|ytis, -ijasi, -ijosi Russian to clean oneself; čiūdas (2) Belarusian ghost; čiūpryna (1) Belarusian topknot; čiurštumā (3b) dregs D dachōdzic Belarusian cares; daeid|yti, -o, -ė hybrid to approach; dagir|sti, -sta, -do hybrid to give a drink; dainyčia (2) Belarusian milking stool; dainūotoj|as, -a (1) singer; dajonkā (2) Belarusian milking stool; da|kūlti, -kulia, -kūlė hybrid to finish threshing; dalgākotis (1) scythe handle; damast|yti, -o, -ė hybrid to finish thinking; dañgtis (2) roof; dañtas (4) tooth; dantis (4) unevenness of a scythe blade; dañ now; darbinỹk|as, -ė (2) worker; dasidair|yti, -o, -ė hybrid to look after; dasiek|ti, -ia, -ė hybrid to reach; dasilytē|ti, -ja, -jo hybrid to touch; daspēlti|ti, -ja, -jo Russian to ripen; degā hot; dēti, dēda, dējo 1. to raise, set up; 2. to turn, wrap; dētis, dēdasi, dējosi to disappear; dick|las, -ā (4) big; didel|lis, -ė (3b) long; didžiul|as, -ā (1) hybrid the big one; didžiul|lis, -ė (2) large; died|las (4) Belarusian great-great-grandfather; -ūkas (2) hybrid grandfather; dyka kiaulē wild boar; dilgyne (3b) nettle; dirb|tis, -asi, -osi to become; dōvanai for free; dōvlyti, -ija, -ijo Belarusian to spoil; to press; drābn|as, -ā (4) Belarusian small; -ai finely; -ūkas (2) hybrid tiny; dramṇai Belarusian finely; drāt|las (2) Belarusian wire; -ūkas (2) hybrid small wire; drēgnumā (3a) dampness; drēna Belarusian it's hard, it's bad; drēpliō|tis, -jasi, -josi to splash about; drōbčiai (2) Belarusian garden hoe; dūi give; dūkas (2) Belarusian smell, air; dūkrē (2) daughter; dūoti, dūoda, dāve to continue without stopping; dūsin|ti, -a, -o hybrid to suffocate; dūšna Russian stuffy; dūšnavōt|as, -a (1) Russian close and stuffy; dviju two together; dzeravōkas (2) Belarusian woodpecker; dzernā (4) Belarusian turf; dziēgorius (1) Polish clock; dziūbas (4) Belarusian beak; dziubēn|ti, -a, -o to chisel; dziub|ēu, -a, -ējo to shout, cry out; džerkōčius (2) Belarusian corncrake; džerk|ti, -ia, -ė hybrid to shout 163 E Edvartišk|is, -ė (2) a member of Edvardas’s household spruce grove (3) spruce grove turn (4): to herd a communal flock in turn, when one's turn comes to go, goes, went: to become Jews ekspirnas (2) aspirin to eat, eats, ate to gnaw (of moths) F feliksisk|is, -ė (1) a member of Feliksas’s household frenčius (2) br. jacket with a high collar G rooster (4): roosters crow to have cracked skin on the hands devil (4) the evil one, the devil to wrestle, -iuojasi, -iãvosi to go wrestling dance (2) br. a kind of dance steam (4) air, gas, smell kerosene (2) br. kerosene landlady (2) br. housewife farmer (2) br. farmer to get, gáuna, gõvė to grab, snatch gas stove (2) br. gas stove newspaper (2) sl. newspaper last quarter of the moon (2) last quarter yellowhammer (2) hibr. yellowhammer yellowish, -ish (4) hibr. yellow stinger (3b) sting gėmd|yti, -o, -ė give birth gervūtis (2) young crane giedl|ėti, -a, -ėjo sing giesmė (3) song gyliù|ti, -ja, -jo to play the gylius ginti, gina, gýne forbid gird|ėti, -i, -ėjo feel, see girsa (1) dirse girsin|is, -ė (2) covered with dirse girtis, giriasi, gỹrėsi boast gisti, gysta, gĩso spoil giūra (4) kvass glūs|yti, -ija, -ijo br. smother gõktos (2) br. gaktos gõnkas (2) le. vestibule; veranda grãbas (4) sl. coffin to rummage about grabaliotis to rummage grabinėti grabūzdas (2) br. field eryngo, yellow thistle grabūzdienė (2) hibr. soup made from field eryngo gražavírba (1) lamprey beautifully very much, intensely handsome (3b) beautiful to chew romyti gražin|ti, -a, -o: g. žūiką atstatyti gromulį grebeniai (3b) br. flax comb to rake grėbti gùdas (2) an unaristocratic local inhabitant who has become partly Belarusian to fall down kristi gùlta (1) a nest among the straw gunglỹs (4) a clod of dried manure to shrug gūžčioti a hollow (2) a hollow made by hens: to jump the hollow to go hollowing I to search to look for: to look for lice 1k until: 1. until daybreak 164 length (3a) length to succeed, succeeds, succeeded to prosper on top turkey (2) Slavic turkey down to 1. into; 2. up to; down to the ground downward to let in, -lets in, -let in to release to let in, -lets in, -let in to admit to throw in, -throws in, -threw in to throw in to press into, -presses into, -pressed into to crush to get caught, -gets caught, -got caught to get trapped to settle in, -settles in, -settled in to become accustomed to a place to thread through, -threads through, -threaded through to thread through insi|vė́sti, -veda, -vedė to start breeding insùkti, -a, -ė to wrap around a spindle invar|gyti, -o, -ė to drive in išbėgdinė́ti, -ja, -jo 1. to fly away; 2. to fly about išbir|ti, -a, -o to crumble iš|dėti, -deda, -dėjo to make grooves in glass išdvė́sti, -ta, -o to become stale išeid|ýti, -o, -ė 1. to leave; 2. to crumble; 3. to be able išgaščiai (1) illness caused by fright išglūm|yti, -ija, -ijo to trample išgražin|ti, -a, -o to gut iš|grūti, -grūna, -grūvo to crumble iškart from the beginning išken|tėti, -čia, -tėjo to endure išlakst|yti, -o, -ė to run around išlė́i|sti, -džia, -ė to let go heal, -ija, -ijo hybrid cure slip, -lenda, -lindo slide down from childhood from an early age cut out, -ja, -jo cut out scoop out, -renka, -riñko scoop out whey (1) whey spill out, -krečia, -krėtė spill out milk oneself dry, -o, -ė finish milking bend oneself, -ia, -ė curl up bend oneself, -a, -ė curl up urinate, -a, -ė relieve oneself torment oneself, -ija, -ijo hybrid wear oneself out jump out, -sta, -o; run out; meet open-mouthed person, -ė (1) gaper seep through, -a, -ėjo leak through pull out, -ia, -ė uproot by will 1. gradually; 2. with all one’s might to pull|out, -s out, -led out to lead around, -s, -ed it|las, -a (2) this; itai that J jaščika (1) Sl. box new moon (2) new moon to seem|, -s, -ed to be heard grain (4) grain to them to them Jonišk|is, -ė (2) a member of Jonas’s household jūdrica (1) hybrid judrė loom crossbar (1) loom crossbar striped, -a (1) striped your|, -ė (1) yours K kãčaras (1) br. a drake kačk|a (2) br. a duck; -ūtis (2) hibr. a duckling kãd if kaladkà (2) br. 1. wooden mallet; 2. hub kalvarãtnykas (1) br. cartwright kalvỹs (3) blacksmith kalvišk|is, -ė (2) a member of the blacksmith's household kãmas (4) lump: suveiti kaman to churn together into butter kambikõrmas (2) sl. mixed feed kameñ where 165 kansomólka (1) a breed of hens from the Lėhorne region kantãv|as, -à (4) a square, stout person kàp 1. when; 2. that; 3. as, as if; 4. if; 5. the more; kàp kaĩtas precisely; kàp dienà, tẽp naktìs both by day and by night kaprìs|as (2) capricious; -n|as, -à (4) || -n|ùs, -ì (4) capricious kapst|ytis, -osi, -ėsi to busy oneself with trivialities karliãckas (2) Colorado potato beetle karlòkas (2) Colorado potato beetle karmìstas (2) a narrow-necked metal or plastic tank karõbačka (1) Slavic: a kind of dance karvalãtas (2) Belarusian: spinning wheel karvalatẽnė hybrid form (1) the wife of a spinning-wheel maker karvalõtišk|is, -ė hybrid form (1) a member of the spinning-wheel maker's household karzinka (1) Slavic to carry a little basket to the market or shop kãs everyone kasà (4) a shoot from which leaves grow kasdienà every day kasnỹkas (2) bobbin kašìkas (3b) basket katarãka (1) cataract kaukė (1) sl. jackdaw kavõlis (2) sl. blacksmith kazišk|is, -ė (2) a member of Kazys’s household kepsnė (4):kraujų kepsnė a dish made from freshly fried blood kẽstis, kẽčiasi, kẽtėsito swell ket|ù, -ios (4) four ketveria: įngi ketveria into four parts kiaulin|is, -ė (1): kiaulinė mėsa pork kiáušas (3) egg kìb|ti, -sta, -o to fidget kiekvien|as, -a (3): kiekvieni mẽtai every year kilòmetras (1) kilometer kiškabaravỹkis (1) bitter bolete hare female (1) hare to rock, -s, -ed colloq. to sway while lifting with all one’s strength to stuff, -s, -ed to cram stuffing tool (1) stuffing box little box (2) hybrid drawer little wedge (2) hybrid small wedge thick yarn (4) colloq. thick single-ply threads spoon colloq. though kokįájdien (<i> kokiąja dieną) which day good, healthy (3) good, healthy because why basket (1) basket each (4) colloq.: each one each to croak, -s, -ed to croak raven (2) raven, crow ridge (2) roof ridge shirt (2) roof ridge little tail (2) tip of the tail up to the beginning of the hair to bite, gnaw to bite spring| (2) Belarusian spring; -ėlė (2) hybrid little spring chest (2) chest butter churn (2) Slavic paddle of a butter churn stove| (1) 1. pile of stones; 2. sauna stove; -ùkė (2) small pile of stones round, -a (3b) hybrid round hook (2) hook for loosening fabric small hook (2) crochet hook to thread through the reed with little dots dotted 166 kub|ždėlis (1) puffball kučnierius (2) sl. furrier kudavót|as, -a br. (1) weakling kūdra (1) meadow surrounded by water kuksa (2) fingerless kulókas (2) sl. fist kultuvė (3a) wooden flail for threshing flax heads kundžiukas (2) br. smoked sausage kuõm what for kūps|tas (2) cake; -čiūkas (2) little cake kūšlas, -à (4) overgrown-legged kušlėtyna (1) overgrown-legged kvaj|n|is, -ė (2) hibr. pinewood kvaja (2) sl. pine kvarabà (2) br. illness kvarbavóti, -ja, -jo sl. to dye kvietka (2) br. flower kvorbà (4) sl. color L labót|as, -a (1) br. hornless laidókas (2) le. a scapegrace láisv|as, -à (3) not employed in government service lakmónas (2) le. an old garment worn at home laláutojas (1) someone who goes lalauja at Easter lámbas letter lándžio|ti, -ja, -jo 1. to wander; 2. to crawl lándži|auti, -iauna, -iavo to wander about, to walk laškėna a wood shaver lañk|ytis, -osi, -ėsi to sway latuška (2) br. an earthenware or wooden bowl láuž|ytis, -osi, -ėsi: laužytis kalbą to speak in an unusual way ledin|is, -ė (2) shiny, iron leisdiñė|ti, -ja, -jo to let lenčiūgas (2) chain lepš|ys, -ė (4) weakling ležánka (1) sl. small stove masonry liekarsta (1) sl. medicine liésvos (2) br. ladder liẽti, lieja, liejo 1. to water, pour; 2. to deliver to the dairy liẽtn|as, -à (4) br. summer worker lietuv|ys, -ė (3a) Lithuanian liežùvis (2) language likd|ytis, -osi, -ėsi to remain, become, diminish likti, linkma, liko to remain limp|ūs, -i (4) affable liñksm|as, -à (4) bright lýti, lija, lijo 1. to rain; 2. to melt liùrba (1) 1. a large, thick wood shaving; 2. a sloven, a good-for-nothing lopetà (3a) front ham, shoulder patch (3a) kerchief little patch (1) hybrid paw attic (4): in the attic upstairs to flake, -s, -d to crack thick-lipped (1) thick-lipped to tear, -s, -d to scratch M my mine strength (2) col. power strong (4) col. strong; -ly strongly medallion (2) medal carpenter (1) Bel. carpenter carpenter’s wife (1) hybrid carpenter’s wife carpenter’s family member (2) hybrid member of a carpenter’s household cockchafer (4) Slavic: majãvas žūkas cockchafer makavýkas (2) Bel. birch bolete 167 mananārka (1) br. jacket mānas (4) man, himself marūnas (2) mariūnas (blooms white) masliõnkos (2) sl. folds mast|yti, -o, -ė to weave patterns maž sl. perhaps mašin|ka (1) sl. meat grinder matiẽkin|is, -ė (1) of Motiejus, a member of his children's household matól|tis, -jasi, -josi sl. to wrap māžick|as, -a (3b) small mažiùlk|as, -a (1) hibr. 1. little, small; 2. thin mēdis (2) stick, wood splinter medžiaga (1) 1. tree; 2. plough board medžiag|in|is, -ė (2) wooden medžiagėlė (2) small tree medžias (2) forest chaff (2) br. chaff blue (1) blue month (1) 1. month; 2. moon whetstone (4) sharpening stone, wooden sharpener lump (2) sl. lump girl (2) girl not to wear mushrooms (2) br. mushrooms to sleep sleep to like like woolen (2) woolen to fruit; to tread 1. to fertilize; 2. to tread flax breaker (3) woman who breaks flax minute (2) minute to die die female teacher (1) female teacher clay (3) clay mom (4) mother motka (4) Sl.: bee mother beekeeper moža Sl. perhaps možna Sl. possible mule Br. (2) moths mūma us mūmim us; us fly (2) fly mushroom (1) death cap our (2) ours N poor, destitute (1) sl. poor person, pauper let him/her br. let loser (1) hybrid failure to fail hybrid to be a failure a little a little: how little so little week (1) sl. 1. week; 2. Sunday small (4) small not allowed sl. impossible not even not even not even not even deceased person (1) br. deceased not not not bad not bad nowhere: out of nowhere for no reason never le. never žiņipirštis (1) hybrid land-grabber nōg 1. out of; 2. from; 3. behind nōsis (1): nōsin ū taryti to speak nasally nū: pō nū dienai until this day nuder|ėti, -ia, -ėjo to yield a good crop nu|dėti, -deda, -dėjo to hide nud(u)odinē|ti, -ja, -jo to report to the authorities nu|leiti, -eina, -ėjo 1. to disappear, perish; 2. to come due; 3. to fly away; 4. to become; nueiti stamb(u)osna to boil until the kernels burst nugarōkaulis (1) backbone nūimdine|ti, -ja, -jo 1. to peel, take off; 2. to cut 168 nuimd|yti, -o, -ė to remove nukalb|ėti, -a, -ėjo to cure by incantation nukap|ti, -ja, -jo to chop off nu|kirsti, -kerta, -kirto to cut down nusi|plauti, -plūna, -plovė to flow away nusiram|inti, -a, -o not to hear nurinkd|yti, -o, -ė to gather up nu|svilti, -svela, -svilo to scorch nu|šliūti, -šliūna, -šliūvo to veer off, topple over nutāp|yti, -ija, -ijo hybrid form: to trample down nutrauk|ti, -ia, -ė 1. to pluck out; 2. to draw out the heat; 3. to turn around, deceive O oberkas (1) a dance of this kind òdžina (1) snake ožka (4) small runners attached to a sleigh P paausdinė|ti, -ja, -jo to weave again paāu|sti, -džia, -dė to weave again pabėg|ti, -a, -o to fly away pabūd|yti, -o, -ė to stay for a while pa|būti, -būna, -būvo to wait pacūkas (2) rat padabarykščia hybrid as now padābn|as, -ą (4) similar padavolnia (2) long-handled fork padeid|yti, -o, -ė hybrid to approach padėdinė|ti, -ja, -jo to put down pa|dėti, -deda, dė́jo to lay down padýg|ti, -sta, -o to sprout padlōgas (2) floor padmūrouka (2) foundation padūb|ti, -sta, -o hybrid to stiffen, become like wood, inflexible- lankščiam paėl|sti, -da, -dė to chop up pāgal because of pagal|ys (3b) plank; -iùkas (2) 1. small pole; 2. post pagāud|yti, -o, -ė to catch all pa|gáuti, -gauna, -góve 1. to catch; 2. to seize pagėmd|yti, -o, -ė to give birth pa|gérti, -geria, -gėré 1. to drink a little; 2. to drink pagir|sti, -sta, -do to hear pa|gįsti, -gysta, -giso to go out (of a light/fire) pagrięb|ti, -ia, -ė to seize paieškō|ti, -ja, -jo to search paišraust|yti, -o, -ė to pull out paiš|rinkti, -renka, -rinko to pick out paišvėž|ti, -a, -ė to haul away pajaud|sti, -čia, -tė to feel pakapō|ti, -ja, -jo to chop up pakārtuvai (1) hangings pakeldinė|ti, -ja, -jo to lift pa|kélti, -kelia, -kėlė to raise upwards paklō|ti, -ja, -jo to lay down pākulo|tis, -jasi, -josi to tussle pākurálas (34b) firewood pakvarbavō|ti, -ja, -jo hibr. to dye pakvie|sti, -čia, -tė to call palelis (2) stripe palengvica (2) loin (dialectal) tonsillitis (3b) angina paliaukės (1) a disease of piglets in Lithuanian hybrid form in Lithuanian to leav|e, -o, -ė to leave to leav|e, -linkma, -liko they would leave palōtos (2) dialect. 1. washed; 2. boards between the beams for grain in a barn pāls|as, -ą (3) yellowish gray to interfer|e, -o, -ė to hinder to di|e, -šta, -ė to die 169 to for|sake, -ta, -tė to leave, put down to forget repeatedly|, -ja, -jo to forget to get mix|ed up, -jasi, -josi to become mixed up to carry away|, -ja, -jo to take away to carry around|, -ja, -jo to bring together to climb in|, -lenda, -lindo to slip out to die out|, -šta, -ė to die off to knock off|, -o, -ė to break off papečė (3b) hybrid form space beside the stove pa|pour, -pours, -poured 1. to scatter; 2. to lay eggs, to hatch papjaušt|yti, -o, -ė to cut up paplótin|ti, -a, -o to widen usually in Belarusian paprast|as, -a (3b) straight, uninterrupted papri|dėti, -deda, -dėjo to load up papri|gyti, -gyja, -gijo to take root papripeckas (1) hybrid form paprieždys papririš|ti, -a, -ė to tie firmly pa|pulti, -puola, -puolė to become parasoniukas (2) hybrid form umbrella par|griauti, -griauna, -griovė 1. to demolish; 2. to knock down pa|rinkti, -renka, -rinko to rake together; to collect pariš|ti, -a, -ė to tie up parplyčia (2) Belarusian bud parš|iuotis, -uojasi, -avosi to farrow partėž|ti, -ia, -ė to drag along parūk|yti, -ia, -ė to smoke a little parvaž|iuoti, -iuoja, -iavo to ride back pasaujį a handful at a time pasėd|ėti, -i, -ėjo to sit for a while pasidair|yti, -o, -ė to look around pasidraibst|yti, -o, -ė to stretch out pasieid|yti, -o, -ė to approach; to rise pasi|eiti, -eina, -ėjo 1. to leave; 2. to come; 3. to walk a little pasiejė|ti, -ja, -jo to walk past pasikeldinė|ti, -ja, -jo: pasikel-dinėti to mount mares (or heifers), to come into heat (of a mare or cow) pasi|kelti, -kelia, -kėlė 1. to get up; 2. to rise up; 3. to jump out pasiklapā|tyti, -ija, -ijo hybrid. to quarrel pasikočio|ti, -ja, -jo hybrid. to roll around pasilai|kyti, -o, -ė to take care pasi|linkti, -linkma, -liko to remain pasimuč|yti, -ija, -ijo dialectal: to suffer pasi|pūsti, -pučia, -pūtė to grow larger pasiskilinė|ti, -ja, -jo to split apart pasisku|sti, -ta, -tė to shave oneself pasitūgėl|ti, -ja, -jo to grow up pasi|vyzdėti, -vėima, -vyzdėjo to look around pasižen|yti, -ija, -ijo dialectal: to lead paskrebukas (2) dialectal what has been scraped off paskų afterward, later paskutin|is, -ė (1) 1. the last one; 2. the youngest paspjāud|yti, -o, -ė to spit pastyrius (2) brother shepherd pastrónkai (2) brother ropes connecting the harness collars to the crossbar pasvōjemu brother in one's own way pašakaliūoti, -iuoja, -iāvo to chop into pieces pašāld|yti, -o, -ė to cool down to chop wood chips -iuoja, -iāvo to chop wood chips to make someone dance -ja, -jo to dance to hop about -ja, -jo to skip about to carry around -o, -ė to carry for a while to whip -tina, -tynė to give a few strokes to speak gradually -ja, -jo to speak haltingly to succeed -ia, -ė to succeed to rub trina, -trynė: rubbed, to get oneself intoxicated a little broom (2) a broom a small cart (3b) a cart 170 one at a time one by one pa|vyzdėti, -vėima, -vyzdėjo to look for pažinti, -žįsta (-žina), -žino 1. to recognize; 2. to know; 3. to want pečiadėgkstė (2) oven door pečiai (4) loins pelūdnykas (1) chaff penkel|i, -ios (3b) five each per|ėtis, -isi, -ėjosi to tumble pérleidinėti, -ja, -jo to resell pérpa|žinti, -žįsta, -žino to understand pérrinkd|yti, -o, -ė to pick flax selectively péržvoklinė|ti, -ja, -jo hybrid. to ride across petrišk|is, -ė (2) a member of Petro’s family pie 1. through; 2. about pieninė (1) dandelion pieškas (2) Russ. sand southern forest dialect (1) southern pyh pyh dialectal: alive, alive (about a lapwing) inside out (4) reversed to pour, pours, poured 1. to thrash; 2. to give to the dairy; 3. to scatter to pour oneself, pours itself, poured itself to pour oneself belly (4) stomach first of all first finger (2) 1. harvest; 2. branch of a thread to beat, -s, -ed to heed, to beat dandruff (1) scales plot (2) area spot (2) hybrid spot, little dot to tear, -s, -ed to pull out to force one's way, forces its way, forced its way to push forward, to penetrate braid (2) dialectal: plait flat fritter (2) Slavic: pancake made from boiled potatoes, beets, and flour pliek|ti, -ja, -ė to thresh plỹš|ti, -ta, -o to shatter pliusnia (2) dandruff plónick|as, -a (3a) thin plonut|is, -ė (2) slender plòsk|as, -a (4) br. flat plūgavó|ti, -ja, -jo dial. to accumulate into a heap plúksn|a (1) 1. feather; 2. scale; -ėlė (2) little feather põ according to podzelianiánka (1) br. half-ripe popusiáu halfway póra (1) by twos, in pairs pōsas (2) dial. stripe póviršu on the surface, from above prabáltin|ti, -a, -o to bleach white prabavol|ti, -ja, -jo dial. to try to|pant, -pants, -panted to catch one’s breath, recover one’s breath pass|by, -es, -ed to pass past, - (2) having passed release, -džia, -dė to let go pralieska (2) br. grey, violet-colored (of a cow) peel, -a, -o to peel straight br. plainly, directly start, -ja, -jo to begin begin, -ja, -jo to begin bend, -ja, -ė to curve, bend wander around, -o, -ė to wander about fall ill, -o, -ė to recover from an illness fry, -ija, -ijo br. to scorch straight, -a (4) br. straight cold (2) common cold catch a cold, -šāla, -šālo to catch a cold drive out| -o, -ė expel come pouring in, -bira, -byrėjo: receive for free, as if fallen from the sky swell, -sta, -o become swollen pričina (2) brother near the hook prie: beside the thumb, the index finger; next to the little finger the ring finger (of fingers) 171 prieg beside; before priepuolys (3a) seizure prieš: before daybreak priešdien at dawn, in the early morning priešė (1) forepart priešpilis (1) full moon prigimti -sta, -ė be born priimčius (2) son-in-law priimti -o, -ė accept prilįsti -ima, -ėmė 1. meet; 2. be brooded upon prikabinti -a, -o tie prikibti -sta, -o pester priklišti -kliūna, -kliuvo stick prikrešti -krečia, -krėtė force prilaužti -ia, -ė pick primatoti -ja, -jo hybrid wind around primyžti -a, -ė wet with urine priminė (4) entryway primušdinėti -ja, -jo nail down pripilti, -pilia, -pylė pour into priprasdinėti -ja, -jo tame, get used to pririnkdyti, -o, -ė gather together, collect pririšti -a, -ė tie prirūgti -sta, -o turn sour prisidairyti, -o, -ė take care of oneself pris ieidyti, -o, -ė happen, come about prisiglausti, -džia, -dė 1. hide; 2. snuggle up prisikrauti, -krauna, -krovė attract prisileisti, -džia, -dė trust prisimuč ioti, -ija, -ijo hybrid suffer greatly prisipūsti, -pučia, -pūtė puff oneself up prisodinti, -a, -o add prispėti, -ja, -o brother ripen pristoti, -ja, -jo remind prisūdyti, -o, -ė salt pr i šalti, -šąla, -šalo freeze warm up, -šyla, -šilo become warm make a mess -ti, -ja, -jo scatter about tear apart, -o, -ė tear off habit (1) Russ. getting used to keep watch -ja, -jo supervise watchful, -a (4) brother: troublesome look askance (4) Polish: roll one's eyes pūčkūtė (2) hybrid, egg shell pūkčius (2) fluffy one, downy one puliūkas (2) little bird pumpliūkas (2) little bud; willow catkin pumputys (4) bud— pundyla (2) plump, stout woman pundōkas (2) tadpole pupojys (3b) water clover sprays (2) insecticide earwax (4) earwax one and a half, -ōs one and a half half (4) half swell, puff up, -ija, -ijo brother: blow, puff puvėšys (3b) bee smoker R sled, runners (2) small sled ragūtis (2) 1. tooth on the head of a loom shaft; 2. crop link (2) connection scar (2) scar soothe -a, -o calm; persuade appear, -jasi, -josi appear red-capped mushroom (2) redhead sprout, -ja, -jo hybrid grow razcerūšlyti, -ija, -ijo brother: empty out razlėkšti, -kėčia, -kėtė hybrid tell razklodinėti, -ja, -jo hybrid spread razkraudinėti, -ja, -jo hybrid stack 172 razlė | sti, -džia, -dė hybrid distribute razmaiš | yti, -o, -ė hybrid mix up razmirk | ti, -sta, -o hybrid become soaked razmuš | ti, -a, -ė hybrid dismantle razpylinė | ti, -ja, -jo hybrid collapse raz | pjauti, -pjāuna, -pjōvē hybrid cut across razplūk | ti, -a, -o hybrid become mushy razrinkd | yti, -o, -ė hybrid tell razsak | yti, -o, -ė hybrid tell razsiklodinė | ti, -ja, -jo hybrid to spread out razsilė | sti, -džia, -dė hybrid to descend razsiskirdinė | ti, -ja, -jo hybrid to separate, to part raz | skirti, -skiria, -skyrė hybrid to scatter razvesdinė | ti, -ja, -jo hybrid to dilute, to extinguish raz | virti, -vérda, -virė hybrid to boil razžiodin | ti, -a, -o hybrid to pry open rėkvuokė (2) hybrid iron hoop rietuvė (3a) a pile of uncut firewood riñkti, reñka, riñko 1. to gather from the field; 2. to sort out; to differ rišalas (3b) binding of the foot rýtykst | is, -ė (1) eastern rītin | ti, -a, -o to roll rȳžsk | as, -a (4) Belarusian light brown rō | dỵti, -džia, -dė Slavic to advise rōm | as (2) Belarusian frame; -ėlis (2) hybrid window frame ronà (4) Sl. wound ròvaras (1) Le. bicycle ručka (2) Sl. handle rūčnykas (2) Br. towel rudenīs (3b) autumn ruduška (2) hybrid squirrel rūkl | yti, -ia, -ė to smoke rūpesting | as, -a (1) burdened with worries rupūžė (2) toad rušys (4) species rūškūniai (2) sorrel rušutys (3b) nut rutuliō | tis, -jasi, -josi to roll around S one’s own sakūtis (2) hybrid short men’s jacket sáulagrėžtė (1) sunflower sausavōt | as, -a (1) hybrid somewhat dry sėd | ėti, -i, -ėjo 1. to sit; 2. to brood; 3. to stick up, fail to grow; 4. to live where the homestead is sėk | tis, -asi, -ėsi to be able, to manage señbertas (3b) currant sesuvà (3b) sister sė | ti, -ja, -jo to scatter siadričk | as, -a (3b) narrow siedka (2) Slavic chopped sietka (2) Slavic net siužinkėlė (2) hybrid small pond skāros (4) laundry skarvada (3b) Slavic frying pan skerstūvės (2) the spot where a pig is stuck in the throat sklėpas (4) br. cellar sklerōza (1) br. sclerosis skregždūtė (2) swallow skrynėlė (2) 1. mill box; 2. nesting box skryp | ti, -ia, -ė to creak skubavōtai hibr. somewhat quickly skūpu sl. little, not much skūra (4) br. bark, skin slidick | as, -a (3b) slippery slūžas (2) br. mucus slōb | as, -a (4) br. inferior, weak 173 layers (1) strips of bark tar (4) sl.; bee tar pitch tar-like substance (2) br. sucker smetóninga (1) hibr. a cow yielding rich milk smetona (2) sl. sour cream, cream temple area (3b) temple smurglys (3) immature person snaude (2) a drowsy woman; a kind of meadow grass snow heaps (4) snowdrifts snuika (1) br. flour sift sodin|ti, -a, -o to make brood, to incubate sopulys (3a) 1. pain; 2. anguish sōželka (1) sl. pond wing (4) wing spáu|sti, -džia, -dė to tread, to move by lifting (the feet) spė|ti, -ja, -jo sl. to ripen (before dying) spicas (2) br. post spjaudinė|ti, -ja, -jo to spit spjaudulas (3a) spitter sprāgelas (3b) spragilas stači|as, -ia (4) unbending stajōkas (2) sl. 1. gatepost; 2. post stalavà (3b) br. dining room stalierienė (1) hibr. carpenter’s wife stalierius (2) sl. carpenter stalierišk|is, -ė (2) hibr. carpenter’s family member stat|yti, -o, -ė to put stimbūras (3b) stimbras stipriai 1. hard, tightly; 2. forcefully, firmly stiprick|as, -a (3b) hard stiprlūs, -i (4) hard st|pti, stimpà, stipo to become cold; to cool roof (4) sl. haystack, stack thick, -a (3) 1. large; 2. wide; -ai in a bulky manner rather thick, thickish (2) thick; the thicker one thickish, -a (1) hibr. thick become, -s, -ing to become stotyva (2) br. loom wall loom (2) loom stand, -s, -stood live trunk (4) rainbow push, -es, -ed strike wake up, -s, -woke up wake up court (2) sl. court salt, -s, -ed salt whistle, -s, -ed whistle, squeak lie down, -s, -down cover turn, -s, -ed twist sukeliō|tis, -jasi, -josi to fidget su|krėsti, -krečia, -krėtė to shake, beat sukryžavō|ti, -ja, -jo hibr. to cross, exchange sùk|tis, -asi, -ėsi to curl up sùk|ti, -a, -ė 1. to mix; 2. to grind; 3. to wrap; to turn, to hide one’s tail sulāš|ti, -o, -ė to make soggy sùlstis (1) juice: sùlstis nog mėsōs ink sumenč|iuōti, -iuoja, -iāvo to sharpen sumušdinė|ti, -ja, -jo to beat thoroughly sunery|uoti, -uoja, -āvo to irritate sunkayōt|as, -a (1) hibr. idiot sunk|ūs, -i (4) bad, poor supānpčio|ti, -ja, -jo 1. to tighten; 2. to mix supykla (2) quagmire bog su|pilti, -pilia, -pylė to pour together, to pour in suplý|sti, -ta, -o to crack sùp|tis, -asi, -ėsi to roll about sūrā|vas, -a (4) br. linen, unbleached suravieška (2) br. a damp meadow sūravōt|as, -a (1) hibr. somewhat sour surinkdinė|ti, -ja, -jo to gather, to buy surinkd|yti, -o, -ė 1. to gather; 2. to arrange in a row surišdinė|ti, -ja, -jo 1. to join; 2. to tie up, to bind 174 surìšti | ti, -a, -ė to tie on susičiaudėti, -a, -ėjo to sneeze susigamzdyti, -ija, -ijo to become crumpled, to be not smoothed out susikam | luoti, -úoja, -āvo to cling together susilaikindinė | ti, -ja, -jo to hold back susilaik | yti, -o, -ė 1. to stop; 2. to cease; 3. to control oneself susinervū | lti, -ja, -jo to become nervous susinerv | luoti, -úoja, -āvo to become nervous susi | plnti, -pina, -pynė to weave together gather | ti, -o, -ė 1. put together; 2. cling together swell | ti, -a, -ė 1. swell up into a painful lump; 2. curl up meet | ti, -ja, -jo get in touch sew | ti, -sews, -sewed sew up su | smėgti, -smēnga, -smēgo be sulky su | stipti, -stīmpa, -stīpo become stiff, freeze make stop | ti, -ja, -jo stop settle | lti, -ja, -jo settle down freeze | yti, -o, -ė freeze bake | yti, -o, -ė bake bread bring together | yti, -o, -ė carry together contract | ti, -ja, -jo draw together coil | ti, -ja, -jo wind up crush | ti, -crushes, -crushed grind up peck | ti, -a, -o 1. chop up; 2. feed by pecking hold | yti, -o, -ė hold back to provoke | lsti, -čia, -tė to make to anger | ti, -ja, -jo hibr. to irritate to sicken | sti, -da, -dė br. to nauseate completely entirely, wholly to crowd together | ti, -ja, -jo to push together to | throw, -throws, -threw 1. to push together; 2. to pile up for hatching world (1) Sl. world, people fresh | lias, -ià (4) Sl. fresh to burn, svėla scorch, to singe weighing scale (2) br. weighed lever (2) lever lever (4) lever svòtas (2) br. father of a daughter-in-law or son-in-law § small heddle (2) small heddle used to tension weaving aside nearby (not under the hen) country (4) 1. side; 2. half coltsfoot (1) coltsfoot shampoo (1) shampoo black-striped fabric woven from flax and tow (2) br. black-striped fabric woven from flax and tow without husks | as, -a (1) br. without husks shuttle (3a) with a shuttle thin, skinny | as, -a (4) le. thin, skinny pike (2) le. pike housewife (2) housewife sedge (4) a marsh plant of this kind (probably tufted hairgrass) over here here conjurer (2) br. spellcaster snow crust (2) snow crust bristles (2) sl. bristles haymaking (34b) a constellation of three stars to mow | láuti, -āuna, -āvo 1. to cut; 2. to take silken | -is, -ė (1) silken this year this year wheel rim (2) sl. runner, wheel rim sh | ls, -i: these years this year pine cone (2) sl. pine cone, ear; -ūtė (2) hybrid doughnut shiver | -as, -a (1) bristled wet | -ti, -sta, -o to get wet, become damp to slant, slants, slanted to slope 175 lively, -ì (4) quick, cheerful, healthy; -iai merrily, quickly; -ù pleasant to snort, -ia, -ė 1. to roar; 2. to growl cord (2) brother: a thick kind of thread to swing, -ja, -jo to sway to dance, -sta, -o to dance to harm, -ija, -ijo dialectal: to harm scar (2) brother: a scar to shout questions, -auna, -avo to ask by shouting well (3) well quickly quickly nimble, -à (4) brother: quick half-jacket (2) brother: waistcoat T tais|yti, -o, -ė to tidy táidien (< tája dienà) that day tamišk|is, -ė (2) Tomas’s household member tankumà (3a) dense thicket tãp|lyti, -ija, -ijo dialectal: to trample, to entertain t|às, -à:tais kaftais earlier taš|yti, -o, -ė to carry, to lug tebùl let it be teei may he go, may he disappear, may he sink away televizorius (1) echograph tėlias (2) calf: ingį tėlią to be carrying a calf tel|iuotis, -iuojasi, -iavosi to calve teñp|ti, -ia, -ė 1. to carry; 2. to hang down, extend; -tis to be taut, stretched tennà there ténnuo there tèp 1. so; 2. that; tèp kàp as if teplió|tis, -jasi, -josi to smear oneself terbà (4) dialectal bag terió|tis, -jasi, -josi hybrid: to hide oneself tešimas (2) throbbing tẽs|ti, -ia, -ė to pull, carry, steal tẽs|tis, -iasi, -ėsi to get dressed, travel tiekas (1): tiekas dáikto visas whole of a thing tiekù so much tiesė (4) right side tykické quietly tierplyvastis (1) patience (dialectal) tikti, tíñka tiko to happen tòpalius (1) poplar tòpelnykas (1) dialectal: sinking topòlis (2) poplar trašos (4) manure, shit to pull, -ia, -ė one third (2) one-third of a valakas diarrhea (2) diarrhea to poison oneself, -ijasi, -ijosi dialect: to get poisoned tulle (2) curtain (netted), tulle at that very moment (< at that very moment) that time U cleaning woman (1) Russian cleaner syringe (2) Russian medicinal injection needle boiling water (1) dialect: boiling water street-village (1) Russian: linear village lazy person (2) Russian: lazy person grass-charming (1) Russian: for enchanting grass to growl to growl to talk, -ija, -ijo Russian: to speak speech (1) Russian: language, speech mushroom tie (1) 1. (mushroom) collar; 2. cover 176 V walking, -young, -youthful to go in vain (4) war valaknas (3b) pluõštas intestinal tract (2) brother intestines with dung intestinal tract (1) brother liver var|yti, -o, -ė stumti var|ytis, -osi, -ėsi gintis horsefly (4) horsefly crow’s-grain (1) ryegrass vartelió|ti, -ja, -jo vartyti evening party (1) abbreviation party devilish (3b) devil silly, -y (1) hybrid form silly person willow (4) abbreviation willow verbnyčia (1) branch Sunday verk|ti, -ia, -ė: to weep in words, lament beside the deceased verpstė (2) Lithuanian distaff veršis (2) bull vesdinė|tis, -jasi, -josi to appear vesòlinà (1) le. Easter (hymn) vē|stis, -dasi, -dėsi to mate vētyklė (3a) winnowing basket veversys (3b) lark vidurn|is, -ė (2) big (toe) viekas (2) Sl. age vien|as, -à (3) another, other; one another, each other; vienais čėsais at the same time vientara nevertheless, the same vilkas (4): like a wolf all alone vilkódantis (1) the black piglet's tooth vilnóne (2) a kind of mushroom with a downy curl at the edge of its cap vinkšna (1) rye stubble older (1) older oldest (1) oldest senior (1) older (in service) upward little rope (2) string everything everything in every way in every way all kinds, -a (3) all sorts little mushroom (2) such a mushroom, a cap broody hen (1) broody hen to chase, chases, chased to chase to search, searches, searched to look for to steal, -s, -ed to steal German woman (1) German woman German man (1) German man roller (4) hay bar; -let (2) little bar volió|tis, -jasi, -josi dial. 1. to toss about; 2. to lie, to roll about vonià (4) shallow tin tub vōž|tis, -iasi, -ėsi to separate oneself Z zacirka (1) dial. soup made from thickened flour zapalenia (2) dial. pneumonia zāra dial. right away, quickly zarancica (1) dial. morning star zāros (4) dawn zelianiañka (1) dial. evergreen tree zō dial. through žūžl|yti, -ija, -ijo 1. to hum; 2. to burden zvanelis (2) hybrid form rattle Ž žāgar|as (3b) 1. branch; 2. offshoot; 3. twig; 4. a load of brushwood; -ūkas (2) little branch žaliai: žaliai kap merkti pickle greens somehow 177 žaliavót|as, -a (1) hibr. greenish žālick|as, -à (3b) green žafdas (4) crop of grain in a field žebras (1) br. 1. rib; 2. hoop forming the side of a basket žem|as, -à (4) short žemickai low žen|ytis, -ijasi, -ijosi sl. to lead žydáuka (1) br. Jewess žilainė (2) marshy soil, bluish earth žil|as, -à (4) gray žilavótas, -a (1) hibr. grayish žilgas (4) willow žilgutẏs (3b) willow žilick|as, -à (3b) gray žin|dyti, -džia, -dė to breastfeed žingsnỹs (4) step žįsti, žindžia, žindo to suckle žiūr|ėti, -o, -ėjo 1. to look; 2. to check ž vakāštas (2) br. comfrey živat|uoti, -úoja, -āvo hibr. to have diarrhea žõndas (2) le. authority, state žvirblỹs (3) sparrow žūika (1) br. lump žyvavót|as, -a (1) hibr. gravel-covered žvó|ti, -ja, -jo br. to make lumps DIALEKTALE TEXTE IN DER MUNDART VON ŠALČINIAI Summary Phonetically transcribed everyday texts in the peripheral Lithuanian Dzūkian dialect of the village of Šalčiniai (Dieveniškės district, Šalčininkai region) are presented. The dialect is closely connected with the local Belarusian dialect and with local varieties of Polish and Russian. These texts reflect the customs, way of life, culture, and economic level of the Lithuanians who have lived here since ancient times. It is established that 74% of the vocabulary in the texts is of Lithuanian origin. This indicates that the dialect is deeply rooted in Lithuanian, that its Lithuanian character has been preserved, and that it reflects the current features of Lithuanian phonetics, accentology, morphology, syntax, and phraseology, while the tendencies of the dialect’s further development emerge with relative clarity. The texts contain quite a number of lexical archaisms already rare in contemporary Standard Lithuanian, which have either not been recorded in other dialects or occur rarely; cf.: vókis, vóké "the German, the German woman", viralài "vegetables", priešė "front side, front part", rušùlys "nut", šekai "reed", juostelėtas "striped", vėima "he seeks, they seek", smilginė "temple", among others; archaic terms are also frequent, cf.: klastytuvė "swing", menčia "grindstone", šerkšnas "hard, frozen snow surface", vilkódantis "the black tooth of a piglet", among others. There are also words with a specialized meaning in this dialect, cf.: gùdas "a local non-noble assimilated Lithuanian", jaunikis "new moon", jauniklis "bridegroom", vóžtis "the fat separates easily from the intestines", papìltì pautùs "to put eggs together for hatching", among others, as well as semantic dialectisms rarely found in other Lithuanian dialects and in Standard Lithuanian, cf.: pìktas "turned inside out", piñštas "branch of a thread", "part of a plough on which the share is located", "tine of a manure fork", žágaras "branch", "shoot", "twig of a broom"; there are also word-formation dialectisms whose meanings differ from those in Standard Lithuanian and many other dialects, cf.: attráukti "to cut off", apšviėsti "to illuminate through", insùkti "to wrap around", nuderėti "to thrive", prišálti "to freeze to death", among others. Unlike in Standard Lithuanian, derivatives with the suffix -ickas, -a in the dialect under study are not diminutives, as is also the case in other dialects; cf.: siaùrickas "narrow, slim", plónickas "thin". With the suffix -inis, -ė, this dialect derives from the name of the head of the family (the father) a designation for a member of that family, used instead of the family name, which is uncommon in this area 179 used, cf.: Tamiškiai "the family of Tomas Staniulis", Kaziškiai "the family of Kazys Staniulis". The suffixes -inis, -ė and -iškis, -ė are also used to derive patronymics from the names of grandfathers and fathers, which in turn replace family names; cf.: Maciekinio Tamiškio Fel’kà "Feliksas Staniulis, the brother of Tomas Staniulis, son of Motiejus Staniulis", Čepūkinio Feliksiškio marti "the daughter-in-law of Feliksas Staniulis, son of Steponas Staniulis", among others. This feature of the dialect under study should be regarded as a dialectal archaism not yet recorded. The texts under study also contain compound temporal adverbs not previously recorded in our dialects, based on the instrumental case and with a pronominal pronoun as their first component; cf.: kok’úojdzień ~ kokiájdien "on which day, when", túojdzień ~ tájdien "on that day, then"; this too is to be regarded as a rare archaism in Lithuanian. These texts also contain words of more recent origin, closer to the vocabulary of Standard Lithuanian and attesting to its influence on the dialect; cf.: miškas "forest" beside the commonly used mēdžias "forest", dainúotojas "singer" beside the commonly used giedórius "singer". The texts also reflect dialectal inflectional features. It should be noted that the nominal dual is still frequently used here; cf.: du spirgučiu "two pieces of fried fat", dvi telyči "two young cows"; and the imperative without the suffix -k-, cf.: dù "give", eĩ "go". Forms such as the latter are sometimes used with the prefix te- in a hortative sense; cf.: tebù "let it be, let them be", teeĩ "let him/her go, let them go". The texts also contain many place names relating to the surroundings of the village of Šaltiniai and almost entirely of Lithuanian origin; cf.: Kraštinis laakas, Lapėlių kalnas, Sūntakis ~ Sáńtakis, among others. The texts are accompanied by an alphabetical list of rare dialect words, marked with accents and transposed into Standard Lithuanian, with their meanings and, in the case of borrowings, their origins indicated. The texts in the Šaltiniai dialect present a wealth of linguistic (including historical and ethnographic) features of an almost isolated, living dialect, convey its structure more or less completely, and illuminate the way of life of the people who use it. 180