The Washington times., 1922-06-04


is the way the song goes In DIR.
Seya's translation, which is quite
literal. as he explained It to Victor
Flambeau, who followed the lines.
though the language is SO different
from English or French:
-Biow, dear wind. drive my boat
Drive me down to Courland.
The mother OF the girls In couriand
Promised me her little daughter.
"she promised me, but did not give
her.
For she called me . big little drunkard.
"sh. called me a big little drunksrd.
A reckless driver OF fast horses.
(which tavern did I drink dry7
wbose horse did I run to desthf
DID I not pay for my own drinksf
Did I not run my own horsef
.sworthy mistress OF the tavern.
Send me some beer on credit
"-rhs autumn will come. i shall marry.
I will ask you TO be among the gussts-
Than We shall celebrate the wedding.
Drink ana make merry three days
The Latvian language Is quite
different from the Russian
tongue, and much easier to learn.
but the Lettish people do not
expect US to master their Ian
guage, for they are 90 clever
that the majority Of them are
now engaged in learning our
language instead. and everything
American interests them tre'
mendously.
TOLD OF HEAT WAVE.
The daily papers in Latvia
often publish accounts OF hap
penings in America, and last sum-
mer the Latvian newspapers came
out with rather sensational &C
counts, one Of them even describ-
ing how the people in Washing
ton were falling in the streets
because of the hot weather.
sleeping on their roofs throughout
the city, and hundreds dying
every day here. SO that some
OF DR.. seya's friends became gen
uinely alarmed at the reports.
However, what they said was
doubtless but an echo OF reports
they had actually read in Ameri-
can newspapers.
THE Warriors Song" which
follows, is one OF the favorites.
and typifies the love Of country
among the Latvians, who look
forward always to a life OF toll.
and especially TO patriotic service
Of their beloved land:
in the garden the roses were bloom
ing for all.
Only for me were the roses not bloom
ing.
Were my roses not blooming
Because 7 was growing TO be =
warrior?
Swing my cradle. my little mother.
You will not have to swing me very
long.
The waves OF the sea are going to
swing me.
In the boat of the warriors
"It God helps me. I'll finish my service.
I'll come home again.
I'll see my father, my little mother.
I'll see my little sweetheart"
The pensive strains and minor
chords Of this sad song are most
touching as DIR. Sega sang It, and
there is also great tenderness Of
feeling, the love for home. for
presents and sweetheart, the true
characteristic OF a homogeneous
people, bound together by strong
ties. and willing to suffer any
thing to preserve their national
independence and family life. This
inherent courage is equally ex.
pEcsbcd lIi dIloNhtl "atIiOl ooht'
which typifies in the "embroid-
erer" the native industry and the
closing lines of which are among
the most striking in the martial
picture they present OF the young
soldier in the midst OF battle:
When starting for the war.
I left my sister in the cradle.
on returning from the war
found a great embroiderer.
I asked my little mother
Who was the great embroiderer.
My dear boy, that's your little sister
Whom you left in the cradle.
My little sister with your needle
Embroider my war flag.
whsther you embroid,r 1t red or blue,
Never again will you see me.
II my warrior chiefs
Would give permission
! would take my little sister
To the frontier OF Prussia.
There my little sister should see
The soldier life OF her little brother.
The bullets are flying around him,
The fire 10 burning his eyes.
But his glitterinE sword
He 10 swinging round his head.
Thn di,,gnuttya 'pIttlo, is ,,,ar.Ix,