Adieu, adieu, zeltrasainā cornfield,
Mower arm became weary. Saturiņicīts>
cemetery silence, at the confluence of the cemetery;
Opens its doors in a dream the night JŪSMA sad. Saturiņicīts>
SERIES o\'clock the wind rustling
His voice is as sweet and quiet:
- Ziedējis in the spring,
autumn frost comes the stomach. Saturiņicīts>
pale, cool chrysanthemum
Cover what the soul faint
Hid himself deep, quiet ...
Sweet quietude! - Sweet quietude! - Saturiņicīts>
Hearts those that covers the grave pliens,
To love, know how to forgive, as no one else.
Saturiņicīts>
I thee entrance area,
I\'m your tiny flower.
Well its eternal rhythm
Put up with swing
hushed life in the garden
Silently into our steps.
And to those loved
Heart of past talks. Saturiņicīts>
Hushed life in the garden
The love we put
Pink flowers resting place
Those which meet anyone in life. Saturiņicīts>
Hushed life in the garden
Shine a light delicate flower,
Giving his quiet peace
Pain tear on the cheek. Saturiņicīts>
is the most sacred name of mother,
whom life is jāiznēsā.
The most favorite is the mother\'s name,
What atdus heart of the earth cool. Saturiņicīts>
one by one and one after another
we go to stayed in this country.
Your job had a tough, just like your life,
Your work had great stars like you.
It protects life as a grain soil compaction. Saturiņicīts>
Blow, wind, propelling the boat -
An old folk song hurts.
Lift me, Bring me,
Neba life futile act.
Cover the warm seģenīti,
Surrounded by a quiet, cool sand.
For more fall victim to the silent
My eyes caress warm.
Blow, wind, propelling the boat -
An old folk song hurts.
I must say casts out
Neba life futile act. Saturiņicīts>
As the apple tree, with branches of the gravity load, you stuck to his Daugava. Come spring, it will come much more And bless the grave mounds. Saturiņicīts>
I\'m afraid of the sun, the nesatumst,
I\'m afraid of the sun, I am afraid for us.
The sun rising from the sea and sinking into the sea,
A man leaves, another site is born. Saturiņicīts>
What remains even after all that,
that was -
Does the rain cloud that will move neizlijis?
Saddened soul still all so alive
and nesadzijis
As the eternal question:
And what\'s all been?
Yes, that\'s been?
Work and fun moments of rare
More dreams, imagination and midnight silhouettes -
As the fabric of unfinished
which lack some more sketches ...
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