sadly lacking
Fiction.

You, Life, by its very nature
Be boring, too simple and the same.

Negaidītība and
Radītdziņa -

You
My hope for.

I rise
for reconciliation
for reconciliation

Wolf in the forest hunger voice com
take jēradvēseli!
take jēradvēseli!

But the thicket
return lapwing cry!
return lapwing cry!

With its full like a river flood waters
aiztecēšu aizlīgošu aizbrāzīšos
aiztecēšu aizlīgošu aizbrāzīšos

I have to put off winter -
their shame and their pride
their shame and their own pride

But off the ground
I thirst for so long!
Maybe even a thousand years
heart driven to the airport.
To not know my dear mother,
to just suspects his father -
Below me proud mountains,
simrs forest and marshland lily-livered.
As the silvery birds
and two small fishes shine
Of rural flight,
TĀLES and around the middle.
To its start time
there waiting for rockets.
I adhesions to the corner.
And I\'m happy.
While in close pieplakusi,
under the wing of death will be
I fly. I believe.
Pavizināt Do you?

Yes, I want to -
inconceivability life:

an insatiable
thirst for the truth

infinite
path strings;

odd depth
in your eyes;

not turn away, not fear,
look into his soul ---

I need it, I will -
inconceivability life.

I thought -
Garden care
Lucky.

But I did not care and concern
On May dreams intoxication
To remain tukšziedā.

But I did not know strenuousness and gravity
With a fetus
Storage or retrieval.

I think-
Take care of the garden
There is happiness.

Wind relax here, here sasperas again.
As the guardian of the sea and the taiga,
villains ready to drag the ice,
To a hand will, however harsh.

Lake Baikal as seven hundred angry bear.
Lake Baikal kindness calm glow.
His soul seven hundred rapids,
As a man he has some.

You are the most beautiful, deepest, Baikal,
You are the clearest. . . Be a father to me!
You are the oldest. . . Your presence, a
You can not look flabby tiredness.

Everything is sinking violet - Vaivaru flower. . .
And behind the precipice crawling moon horn.
Carefully! - He does not expect pushing,
And - the flowers you crave crazy.

Cauldron of hell. Marble vase, which is placed.
Scientists and fishermen\'s hands. . .
Baikal, the man whose happiness most beautifully
Thrives in tough everyday!

Sun breaking over the mountain ends
Tells the world:
-Each work is a bus,
Himself returns, safely go!

Decembrist exiles forest hoop.
But again, fight, fight looking view.
Keeps coming in waves seagull, distant love
Throw a white haze in these cry, right here.

And without losing her femininity,
You, gentle, fragile, beautiful, night although RUS,
Come hither. . . Land! True masculinity
And sīkstības, and a symbol of strength - you!

Oh, Decembrist wives and sisters of the bride!
Is it just a crazy generosity?
Glides past the face paint century.
Pine wind breaks. Or hurts - it does not ask.

Katrina stands Trubecka. The very first
They are attracted by the high forehead curling separated.
Loss of eye aches sharp thoughts surface.
-There is love. Love is. ---

Sand the affected me, oh, Baikal winds -
The harsh, graizīgie, catchy!
Me to the green open spaces of the ability to
A cleaner, stronger go even further.

Whenever I come - blowing in the sea or the gorge,
Blowing up tūce and cape.
And with these winds quickly overgrow
Cut a heavy heart.

Fortunately, scared. It started as a job -
Against the stones - tuk tuk - with a hammer.
Dark. Shaggy. Straightened up. With a harsh breath.
Then - slowly retreated. Another norūkdams: Well, well! -

. . . But wheat field eruption - Cemetery.
Do birušas stars from the sky?
Only piecstarainas! The winds bent Sapin
And quiet melody cradling the stars.

Since ancient days the wicked are Siberians,
They are accustomed to relying on themselves.
Antipini, Dobrin and Kisi,
Karmanovi, Sukhanov. For peace!

And, listening to the voices of mains,
How your life hear the winter, summer!
Trains will run as a reindeer pals
They nodded the hunter, notrauks tear.

Much fates become legends each,
A lot of you have poured amber, woods!
And in thy name today, Robert Eihe,
How larch - so tenacious branches stretches.

You, Latvian boy, obstinacy chest insulating svil,
Over forever taken off the revolution.
As Crane dived in these Tales tēraudzilās,
In order to fight ducina horizons.

. . . These days long - a hundred and how many more years!
They close the day - all feel yet!
These nemierbalsis seems to flow through the wire.
And convicted, sorry for the unfortunate.

How many happy people, look,
Laughing, kissing and enjoying it!
thy, girl, black hair
Paskumt hid his face a bit.

Early on the morning of Saltupe šūpām
We eagerly drink the sky.
remain on the lips clouds taste.
Saw cries, it nenodzēs!

-How quietly we lived here before!
Seldom run a guest.
But now - in a hurry, just keep and washed,
Do not even know where all the beds here! -

This remote region. . . Hotel in the center
There is a housekeeper for years, paskarba bit.
But the heart so open and receptive to her
When you step izdarīgi days to go.

It\'s raining. Slowly sneak. Is the rain ever stop?
Is a land full of water so the cup already.
But the couch, a thick, dense, hot above the roofs,
In this way the sun is not infinite.

And smokes a geologist, said the mountain range,
The face of winds apberzta as copper.
-To train to be able to scoot through the rocks,
There will be a kilometer long tunnel. . .

Ephemera I forget to take a revolver.
I still wonder: where I had the Mind!
Boulders along the step was taken quickly
And suddenly - passing the bear on the present.

river current, and the tent, and taiga -
Everywhere - you. And even the stars for me - you.
Spruce - you, the rocks - you. Morning sparkles
Did you arrive? Wait. ----

Accessing the guitar. Language runs.
Name the word gummy sticks.
Through all the red yarn -
Love.

And by the way who says, as they say,
You can feel the same whether it occurs.
You can feel overwhelmed by the wisdom of the mud.
Short stories, novels, a memory slip.

\"Easy to dance, but will be hard to live,\"
Says the bearded apskaitīgs small.
\"I know girls who cut the ribs tough!\" -
\"That\'s not nothing!. . . \"

Stocky cove regrets the error:
And his wife took the fastest time,
As long as he hands a apskauties be.
Of course, the fate warped crooked.

. . . Today the festival - celebrating a wedding in the village.
The guys brought guns into the sky to fire.
Taiga and Fall colors of new buildings
Life goals included.

Mountains, felling trees and track
Our love is worthy.
The happiness of life required by the
young wife and jauniķis - man?

circle stands
Foreman and yards?
Coarse, robust word, but bright as a peacock
Hovering over them.

In quickly want to go as slow.
Break engines - propel it!
Who will start component, say,
Already \"borrowed\" from others?

As a flying vampire - Mosquitoes
This question sic ears.
There are offended strādniekpuišu honor;
Although it still breaks new ground the way!

Green hair in the wind like a dream confused.
And each muskuļšiedra
After the work is called a real man,
For a reliable member.

How do I overcome the pain of silver,
What comes after a long soul sting?
I am not you, not me you cheat,
But I am willing to share heart broken off.

How can I get away from you, so severely,
Harder realizing the truth:
How expensive is human intimacy,
So we could not evaluate it.

brings high pine crest,
Stars burn green branches.
But the men and boys lying lying.
Because they will go long ways.

As a stallion, as ēzļi -
Roar, blowing, sten \"small\", \"Kraz\". . .
And takes all the soul
This work - fighting excitement.

And I do work I do,
For this work feel
Both the bright spark of joy,
Both the needs of a cross.

Here, pine cones and candles glow.
Sawmills growls as bison,
It may be that they are a little bit sorry
Give saws cedar trunks.

Fucking whippet. While barriers slij
Against battle tanks sister -
or go bog, or thicket -
Even nenobrāzis color.

So the driver\'s eyes KAIST,
Captures the view-either as a stick!
Not only iron, but it seems - even the air
This warm, that danger.

And the devil\'s eyes draišķīgs SMIE.
Boy, you have a mane like a horse!
We sapratīsimies.
We are one in the rain moments.

When the naphthalene over lodostu,
Poetry had to go to ruin,
Then you coat unbuttoned.
Grāmatpakām over the decks.

What are your dream guitar?
He was ready to write the press:
- The track - a real adventure!
It interests me! -

And laughed more than once
Both the logger and loader:
- You are too easy for words wall,
You\'re a - a shooter in the mist! -

But the day firmly heart sies,
To fly as fluff.
How soon will feel the fish in the river
Here guitarist - its a boy! ---

Night stars streets of Riga will be,
It seems - birthplace hearing.
- Said - why call me back? -
It asked the same heart.

Fire is burning, and coal Gail,
But forest sinks heavy slumber.
Are not you afraid of difficulties,
Itself is tested.

Gambling

The man - shoulder width of the door,
As carbon black hair.
Through the lightning seems, knows how to pass,
They atsviežot the palm of your hand.

Here, fir thicket so dense -
Tree cut down - can not fall off.
But the frost? It helped to suffer
THIS southern jokes.

. . . They had high snowdrifts,
And feet deep into the footpath.
By running doggies stumble it -
The man made a long time on the shoulder.

Wind atšūpo wife\'s voice:
-We were all fascinated by the beginning.
Cut is being built, but so that the key!
And son come to mind. . .

We will be worthy of the cedar,
These severe tēraudsliedes
The only place on earth,
Where luck will hold. -

- Sitting in a guy. In addition to guitar.
Sits, legs stretched out and limber.
Play When he - ra, ra, ra -
We are pleased to carry Wilks.

I bring himself pointed, sharp spear,
It colander
laughing, eating, sleeping,
divorced book pages. . .

Šķēps suffers violence, and pulls at the time, which is not,
not yet,
it pull me up. . .
Morning!

Morning after morning, me, living and leisure, construction,
is called,
commands.