Season

 1 Spring|      gleaming beak. ~They found the old thatch roof much damaged
 2 Spring|        light heart and the dejected old -~Each one and all admire
 3 Spring|             his young pigs?~Did not old Bleberis take care of all
 4 Spring|          there I stood and blushed, old Krizas came along. ~'Say,
 5 Spring|           sweet sleep and rested my old bones.~So many times without
 6 Spring|            my weary eyes; ~And that old wife of mine -you well know
 7 Spring|            undone. ~We know that an old wheel, which barely turns
 8 Spring|            in bed ~Wrapped up in an old coat, would curse and shout
 9 Spring|          took the wise advice of my old man, ~And will repeat his
10 Spring|             back so much ~That your old garments fell to ribbons
11 Spring|            a bit ashamed~When their old spinning wheels will barely
12 Spring|            must wear again the same old patched-up pants, ~The children
13 Summer|            loves our dear Lithuania old - ~And who Lithuanian speaks
14 Summer|            So spake ere Whitsuntide old Prickus to the boors, ~As
15 Summer|           and girls he sharpens his old scythe, ~Without the slightest
16 Summer|              A summons in his hand, old Prickus walked inside. ~"
17 Summer|        steed, a stallion four years old, ~And galloped to announce
18 Summer|        peeps not only from under an old drab frock - ~From under
19 Summer|         Mark me, my friend, I am of old and hoary age; ~And in my
20 Summer|           To herd the nasty pigs of old man Bleberis ~Then having
21 Summer|             things as well; ~So one old bachelor woodcarver envied
22 Summer|      Created pride and joy in their old happy homes.~And if at times
23 Summer|           and offer him - with your old cap removed ~And bending
24 Summer|      lighthearted, playful brave - ~Old blooms, like hoary age -
25 Summer|           intact. ~Plauciunas, that old sot, drank at the harvest
26 Summer|          those bewhiskered times of old, ~When our sweet women did
27 Summer|          holy mess you'll gather in old rags? ~Have pity and cause
28 Summer|            some one aptly said, 'An old crone's rattling teeth ~
29 Summer|             we will tell you now - ~Old women and young girls, keep
30 Summer|         many hungry days, ~Bang our old pots and pans, preparing
31 Autumn|       sheepskin coats, ~Compels the old and weak to hug the blazing
32 Autumn|            slashed back. ~Where two old dobbins once could drag
33 Autumn|            on the peasants' backs. ~Old bast shoes and worn boots
34 Autumn|      wedding ball and bridled their old nags.~Especially Enskys,
35 Autumn|             ride. ~As he lashed his old horse and mumbled boorishly, ~
36 Autumn|            food and drinks,~Like an old Polish bag, rolled off the
37 Autumn|         face puffed out, played his old wooden fife. ~Enskys now
38 Autumn|           dark nook,~Or swaddled in old rags and laid on the hard
39 Autumn|            well.~But now, when I am old, all hail me as a fool;~
40 Autumn|            as I groom and saddle my old nag,~I see there on his
41 Autumn| heart-stricken at the thought of my old age;~Then when I ride upon
42 Autumn|             I care that much for my old senseless beast, ~On whose
43 Autumn|               Or even of the harsh, old eagle's crooked beak. ~Each
44 Autumn|           men. ~My friend, for this old knife, this worn and blunted
45 Autumn|            where I each day cook my old pot, ~Two scoundrels live
46 Autumn|          gray hair stand up on your old head. ~"Those stinkers have
47 Autumn|         strips of boards, tied with old rags and bast ~To the decaying
48 Autumn|           baptismal feast, ~As good old Krizas has told us a year
49 Autumn|            enough! ~Enough of those old tales! Our ears begin to
50 Autumn|          what became of those good, old Lithuanian days, ~When Prussians
51 Autumn|          that he is too lax and too old. ~One says the teacher speaks
52 Autumn|          patriarchs and holy men of old,~And so said Christ, our
53 Winter|          through the mass of clouds old Winter stuck his head, ~
54 Winter|            Prickus as he passed his old tobacco pouch~Around the
55 Winter|           filling with tobacco your old pipes, ~Or strike the flint
56 Winter|          bundle of dry twigs, or an old, rotting stump?" ~"Look,
57 Winter|         cook hash or stew makes our old caldrons seethe, ~And in
58 Winter|          one man by overheating his old stove, ~Another, broiling
59 Winter|           hand; ~Jeke, Katre, Pime, old Lauras and his wife, ~And
60 Winter|          You see, the greed of this old squire was so extreme,~That
61 Winter|         candles guards the squire's old treasure chest, ~Avows that
62 Winter|             in the morn lashed poor old Prickus' hide so deep, ~
63 Winter|             cook fresh foods in our old pots. ~And so now let us