And I felt very fresh dry winds.
Where willows cut the darkness,
Piedrazotā garden and silent,
Just come down from the lap time,
Green spread his wings to the wind.

And I felt the breath of people
Severe saltajā flying in the air
Where willows cut the darkness,
Near the wall where I stood.

It no longer was in the garden.
Only very fresh dry wind wings
Carrying a dead human breath,
Severe šalkoja over me.

And the wall says \"Movies\"
Piedrazotā garden and the old
Slowly closing lap time,
And the face I sasniga wind.

aizlīp mouth closed with the words
were disintegrated with honey
which from a long stops Vedic
through the sand hill gate

it is a fun song
sung by the deceased dainas
sun-fatigued klaiņāt
drawn a smart body

too deep the death we die
or no longer without requiring
revel in the afterworld
stabulēt the joyous fun?

wells we face.
Too many people Were at the well.
Wind coats, Mitte turf
Strangers. . . Kūtslopu and odors.

Strangers. One bucket for all.
Drank alternately - and theyâ me.
The well water and smudges dzisa,
Late Drinkers carry it away.

At night, died in the well.
Why is it allowed me time apstāvēt
Strangers from trencher Sprinkle! -
Driven into shrill shovel in hand plant.

kept silence covered with stains of old
forest and the sun is a criticism of a shoulder
bag as a very fruitful cock murmured
until the moon rises and bushy women hip

where to find the world more tangible
that nature is making a vemeistara skill
and the cloud as a signature paintings corner
not legible without mental sweat sūriem

RAS boils žulgst and wormwood lok Kipi
clay will create cracks in the rivers and moss fermentation
adversity lean lime and honey neaplipis
clouds and the sun nenogrūst

RAS boiling and fermentation iebrien within your tissues
on all doors
RAS on the roads asked
redundant moment of our life
purchased by all the money
sienāžsiekala your life as a moment of bitter

just swallows
your hand trembling
only swallows
pink carries a high

your hand Antiquity
pink soil Strings
your hand Antiquity
there over the Courland

chamomile kumeliņā
easy aizjāj my breath
mēnesstaru warm linen
pink glow entering the room

all abrasions heal
small wood light rustlin

3 drops of the city - in the floodplain,
where air sprēgājot edged sun, we are looking at
butterflies, pulsating dzelmainiem wings over the isiXhosa
austrunieciskajiem būvķermeņiem where grasshopper
cut from green stone and aizpland
passing along the grayling souls sleek, -
three pileini sedge
of lashes
You slip.

Anatole Imermanim

My blood to walking around with no reins
Along these streets, where the pigeons rustles,
It will never, I will not allow it to dry
Stone Whirlwind bound and rout.

Stone whirlwind of the world introduced
Riga bricks veins I flow,
Walking around the streets of blood as a woman
Each window of her burning kiss.

Walking around the blood without shame and honor,
Doing all that we allowed dear,
Just then his accessories and serve.
. . . Coming wall and the blood is called.

FALL

apple gets too loud,
It plays too fast winds.
Once again, once again, music jāsalūst
Everything that you sowed in silence.

mighty fall, and heavy Celní,
With ten muzicējošiem winds
Heart and thousands of pages,
Along the lake - iemetēju rainfall,
Under the sun on a cool copper -

Leave me a mighty fall
Red by red road
Stretches strange pools of carbon monoxide,
I am going.

With each step along contours is lost,
Šļāc wave at all uncertain,
I see by the roadside thoughts Trud,
Only clue will break away with it.

But the winter with a silver pencil stand
Weeks behind the strange Dairo,
With the clarity of silver in the distance -
----------------------------------

the words fall off the relationship bare
with the freedom that potion leaves falling
a warning to cease fire gailēt
a few hours

the words fall off the relationship bare
and heavy-chain decays flower rings.
the words are falling. You pull your tongue fear -
be free to sift leaves falling

grasshopper, butterfly goes down,
Birch grove izraudāts last.
Stork ridge sing folk songs at moriem,
I guess because we do not sing anymore.

Aram skinned over the eyes.
Cīpslots clearing bushes and shame.
Still not span the snow has not slaked,
Star splashes dry up in the sky. . .

This is your field - life without free circulation.
One of a handful of desire to live.

first snow

lime dressing
Whereas the girls:

Look

Saputojas Sartene snow,
Solid pane of anchoring
Instant knight.
Saputojas Sartene snow.

Snow saburtojam letters,
Pane, which winds throw,
Deletes and aizvirpina away.
Snow saburtojam letter.

Snow yourself wasting the moment
Neizšķērdētajā window.
Whether they rejoice or suffer?
Snow yourself wasting the moment.

Nightingale-minute recess.