Song of joy

And if ever stigmatized
And deformable and the trap is,
I sit down and the words
One song of joy.

The pleasure I write myself
For his own pleasure,
And from his song
The very glad I get.

Jo did not need much -
Once a total animal,
To write to please yourself
Song of joy.

And if you too are somehow
This not find redundant -
You can also sing
This song of joy.

On their own, the joy you
And the folk of pleasure.
If he wants to - that others also sings.
Because - where do I redundant?

/ Imants Ziedonis /

salary in front of you -
Friends or animal feeding.
The key to within yourself
Sapumpurots thriving branch.

Small little pigs rukšķ
long, long green joy.

That\'s why my house is empty -
I left the door open.

/ Maris Melgalvs /

Anthem

Open your soul wonders
And enter the world of deer sign
Deep in the woods during the summer catchy.

You see this day - so agleam as page
Dark and bright, breathing in the wind
Own destiny adventurer breath.

Put your joy and light to forehead
Padzero and courage of the source water,
Flashing in the sun, it falls over a cliff.

Open your soul wonders
And enter the world of deer in the woods:
Light, fragrance morning trembling nostrils.

/ Veronica Strelerte /

crossroad

Do not look back!
What was to remain where there is!
Time you are separated from the whole time!
Do not look back!

Surrounded by opened!
What open space, where departing sight!
Where to? - Make a decision for yourself!
Surrounded by opened!

Believe in the remote!
And do not ask, to respect the hardness,
Will go a long time and much
Believe in the remote!

/ Veronica Strelerte /

My girlfriend knows love
I know joy.
The joy of moving painful, bluish
snowflake in their
And the sun in my face dance sign -
not worth it, not worth it
My friend knows the love I
know the joy
Loud and sparkling hands,
What flowers as roses sarkuma
and shame, before starting the first run
trams.
Tears of joy on their own, which is reflected in lantern
tubes.
the joy of silence in the temple and loudly
beating-heart
skumjajās dog\'s eyes, flowers for a moment you
breath,
My friend knows the love I
know the joy
Joy of learning how to dance the waltz and timidly
reckless as a child
fire in the air
happy to breathe and cry - children nedzimst
from joy
I have children of joy will be born.

/ Inga Gaile /

There will be no forgiveness of sins,
no indictment.
Crawling out of my land,
crawling on the green, brisk late.
Spraucies sun. Grow and hands.
Blooms in the late evening.
Called when the nesasauksi,
not spare your voice, my son.
Death comes with a brisk step.
Life sometimes klunkuro.
Called. And you will be called strong.
Called. And will that echoes.

/ Maris Melgalvs /

great is our life,
Much as the maple leaves.
And large, white birch is
Mount Cemetery.

High clouds are our -
Gubaini, beautiful.
Huge oak trees grow -
God placed.

How beautiful the snake:
The tongue sides split!
What am I huge piece of dust
And - the gold!

I am a big story
Wee flowering meadow.
Floors and sing, Life,
The size of your.

Reeds and the sky
Our lakes boards.
Huge is a calm,
With what I will look.

/ Imants Ziedonis /

What God created this world, where
mixed with the smell of rain
reality and the mud is to stand as
firmly to hold the head
aquarium in which flying swordfish, which are your eyes?
What God created this world where, glaciers brāžoties through our finger tips, is to catch
capture only the red and dzijtiņu moment when the sun was setting digested glittering sea deck, to catch
a shrill cry of gulls, so that
silence slicing beach
loose sand.
I come.

/ Inga Gaile /

of all Executive Board\'s sleep
and peace, and balance,
God is only a dream -
big world,
and my dream
It is my little life.

God is lying.
I want to wake up
before him.

/ Inguna Jansson /

Blue Flower

It is a long blue flower
It is neither here, nor there,
Its flower, the blue flower -
I wonder where they have grown up!

The long blue flower
No one has ever seen
But her sweet odor
Everyone is feeling.

The flower, the blue flower,
What is the point of looking for it?
How many hundred thousand miles
At her to travel?

After a long blue flowers
In vain searched for a long time!
But always seekers
The new long drives.

It is a long blue flower

And again silence san in the morning.
And again, you does not forgive me.
I had promised song.
Well, this song is playing without me.
There is no word to my love songs.
Not present here our, skandētāju.
But still sparkle. But still ablaze.
And heated my empty house.
Tired of everything. But the song live.
No longer allow me to die.
And no I do not want to throw up tough.
Not even sweet. Even when the permit.
Under the feet of the trail runs viegli.
I\'m leaving. But not away.
I Tarbes white ball of yarn.
Watery dew underfoot.

/ Maris Melgalvs /

White Morning

This morning, take the memory of
When the white snow snow.
But if the memory is disappearing,
Then - this is a must.

The white tablecloth covered with,
When you want to start a feast,
The handkerchief taken,
When the times comes to cry.

The atvadsveicienu it takes,
And so it rustles in the wind.
Take on anything. On that morning,
Late snow is white.

If you have a wound through felled
The link in morning stretches,
While still in country irrespective
We go through life.

This morning, take the memory of
It does not matter - as then.
I told you it will help bring
By the first law.

/ Ojars The German /

on your side

On your side of the bird flew
the glow on his chest,
to this
gray-dampening storm
you is not that hard.

I spent a long time her
snowfall wound,
He will carry you
my morning news
and my morning.

I will stay free in the morning
more
once
But soon, soon.

Could you not weave
with your morning alone,
but, in my view -
uzausīsi.

/ The German Ojars /

How is it?
Wake up
and immediately jump
blue light floods
every morning from scratch. . .

Every morning a new
dive saltajās spray
and customary rhythms. . .

From the beginning. . .
Again!

Breach the threshold of bed,
go off
hard work
and even ahead of time parakties
gray to the hill. . .

Again!

/ Valija Brutāne /

Re grapple fierce struggle
with harsh reality,
the only -
win your gentle smile
and through it see
fragile green larval
funny voracious
and wind tightly belted,
bald forehead wave whack
and selfish people laden with fireplace
Earth\'s baby.

What luck,
if it can be again. . .