years until the thorns
It\'s not just roses as
Now faces often
Why do they run so fast.
But that does not lack the joy of life
Despite the shadows away to heal,
Years as a crown of flowers
Able long, long festoon. Saturiņicīts>
the spring - summer
of the golden autumn - winter-
end of a time and it will tell
that are in place
and that the happiness horseshoes
can be found even commonness.
M. Streak
eighteen.
Rich you are - you belong to life, feel the palms
You own happiness, which by itself month
pārpilnajā force in her own hand. Saturiņicīts>
I poured a full glass of wine,
In today life years turn me-
The road went through a tranquil valley,
I heard the sounds of the sea in a storm.
I knew the bitterness and pain,
What people are separated from the birds of the air,
And yet a thousand times admit
How rich and beautiful life is.
(I Kalnāne)
rose to turn every sorrow
If God had allowed us,
As the rose garden shelf then land
And starry debesjums.
With a smile of sorrow draw a rose
To sometimes fate lets
And to thy petals
As he rose nenorauj
\"Be wicked woman, be proud and strong!
Be a bird\'s wings that sweep withdrawn!
May be all that a woman may be,
Get up high, fly far,\'re happy! \"
Saturiņicīts>
to you would be white
What is covered
Life biting feet!
Brisk gale source
Below the daily care ranges.
You would have to be sweet,
Bitter thoughts
When the soul ēdas,
And the hand that frosty
Which put out the pain,
What medal!
You have to be a fallacy,
What gives life Vedas madness!
/ K. Apškrūma /
To get what you want come true
For everything you do, succeed
And so life is never so -
There itkā everything but nothing! Saturiņicīts>
Who honestly goes on the road, It is never lost again. But what will be the message of the miracles of the backwoods? Saturiņicīts>
Today Your Day shines above all else,
Today, I congratulate you, sincerely.
Enjoy one for life,
Trusikos and gumijniekos
to this day as beautiful as a dream,
This is only once a year.
This Day in order to conjure up.
What are waiting for all year. Saturiņicīts>
joyous day bird-song,
Cold-flame campfire.
A good night\'s sleep, the murmur of the sea,
Thirst for large wood-dew,
Hot day, a slow wind,
Fatigue-cool shadow.
Pūpolmīkstu grief-pat,
Sometimes empty-brīnumstāstu.
Dark night-star matter
Heart-warm love the place! Saturiņicīts>
Somewhere in the meadow -
The only one in the world - You!
At night she dreams of you smells
And in the morning for a long time on the lips
Feel the taste of honey;
For thine is the meadow,
Which have to do is to enter
And where are you happy.
Lovely welcome! Saturiņicīts>
Happy birthday to you
But you only nelec wall
So we can congratulate you
And yet sweet words to say. Saturiņicīts>
It may be that the question is different?
but from where the sun comes in you
when other people is the moon?
and who else knows it and yet it knows how to
that the heart is left cinder?
that may have no need to ask
and you know yourself, what you do
and day as wet as puttee
your skills in the spring
(Knut Skujenieks)
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