again, no matter the tide rises
regardless of my faith
gludajās sand waves come full
real splash of love
his wandering - gently and softly
Sand it all is absorbed
Saturiņicīts>
flowering tree, the man to do such work knows
To further ten trees with a good min.
Saturiņicīts>
Leaving is different,
One hundred and one hundred again,
Like the arrival of life -
running start.
Saturiņicīts>
is already a pain, the scars,
Which should not be affected even gentle hand.
Just calm yet able to help you -
You already have your forest.
Are your trees.
Saturiņicīts>
Release - detained - views:
Land side of the Bear
Calling softly.
Saturiņicīts>
quietly call - wait for me.
I am now to breathe, smile
Tired.
Saturiņicīts>
thank you for the star on a public holiday.
On coal fireplace, the outside snow.
About Veldze infinity
one sip of water,
Who gives love.
Saturiņicīts>
Ended day.
Another river to swim.
Stars atviz, aizviz,
Aizstaro missed -
Just glare
can bear.
The voice sounded aizskan
Miss. Away
With that,
by echo.
Saturiņicīts>
man is quiet and shadow
Went to the morning.
Maybe at home. Maybe the sea.
Saturiņicīts>
it all on the ground may be so brief sērst -
Even the gods love, works great, beautiful -
And what is lost, we cease not to mobilize themselves,
And no one fail to deal with divorce,
Even the giant cities, the way to an full,
Once vīnstīgājs Wales across a green wave of sadness.
Saturiņicīts>
jādziest expensive banquet lamps -
When short of oil, light a fire nonīkst.
Once upon a time, topped with a blue anemone,
Sea forces will come to the exhausted,
To enter the death as a kind home in my
And the redeemed of all light in silence.
Saturiņicīts>
me to the heart of happiness iesāp,
By weeping love pale flowers,
In the harsh breath of the sea dies
And death shall not retain odor.
With roots grow into the man in the flesh
Almost feel the dune pine.
I am the sea, or my own?
There is no limit to anything. Nowhere.
With good, be happy
The whole earth life expectancy
Reminisce and commemorate their
Parks and People.
Saturiņicīts>
Liability pain
Tenderness and delicate
saulpureņu gold. . .
No response
It is in vain to ask - why,
And the impossible
even nothing hurts.
Saturiņicīts>
It had happened: you are born to this end,
To nerimtības misery
suffer from many places. . .
You were born to this end,
To izbēdātu many sorrows,
But who apjaudis who izskaitījis,
How in the heart of non-healing wounds. . .
Saturiņicīts>
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