Reference
Take me to the Slītere coniferous forests,
Once there, mistle Purenes bloom!
I have so often been disappointed in life,
Want something a little clean.

Take me to the island Moritz,
Once there, the oak leaves begin to flourish,
I have so often in this life is a salt,
Will of the sun was once called the nurse.

Lead me from friends, from relatives,
Lead me from the day of the night,
So I spend some years out,
Beyond all that they once found!

Take me. . . I pray and ask
But you wonder and forehead rauc:
I will seem like a small girl,
Who foolishly allowed a lot of leisure.
***

My Man
I believe in my people,
he\'s definitely somewhere,
I do not know just how many years,
the sea, how many miles separate us.
Sometimes it seems - his voice
behind the hill can be heard already,
A closer approach, see -
my man is not there.
Sometimes the heart itself piemāna
and then the same aches and hurts
And more acutely than in the past
by their man thirsty.
And even more than in the past
my people believe -
Which falsely similar
thought it was someone else.
Wrong hands they
I\'m not going to look -
Then, wash donate
red poppies.
The winds tend to say that they had
He scattered many,
That many a drop of
it is necessary to pick yourself up,
But I\'m waiting and I know -
jāslīkst even if I have to -
Come the last wave
Thrown together for us.
***

My Heritage
What would be May without green birch struck,
In September without the chestnuts and Zilema,
What should we Latvia without trees,
Without groves, pine forest without blue stitching?

The roots of the trees shot through the land,
The trees rustling piedziedāts the air.
And glides over the forest ends sun Lemesos,
And roll the moon Wheels Golden ...

What I inherited from my ancestors?
Neither the titles nor the golden rings
As their firs, oaks and maples
Over my lifetime roads wind zuz.

And when you leave me aiznesīsiet
And leave the white sandy hill,
Sometimes I\'ll come a moment too short,
To see
As my trees are in bloom.
***

To make a wish Gaiziņš
Piebalga hills and gentle,
And gray travertine cracks
Mother of the Latvian cheek.

Who wish to have lands
And the husbandman virtues tenacious,
And gardens, and the apple crop,
Latvian language and soft.

And Kr Barona performance
Rucava and colorful woolly,
And every note and a statement
Where the people\'s heart is brightness.

Who wish to have the Daugava
And thought, and organ, Mass.,
And arranging space,
And the pain that I bring to the soul, -

To make a wish. . .
***

I do not believe
I do not believe that it is possible without people
I\'ve always traukusies on them -
The bright windows black autumn night,
The oglītēm extinct under the ashes. . .
I do not believe that it is possible without people
I always hurry to them
The gullibility palm branches in hand,
The loud joy and hidden torment.
I do not believe that people can be free.
I\'ve always burned by them.
Of them all my life affliction
On their indelible traces of light.

• • •

All that was
Had the pure wind.
Not you, me,
Not me, you
Needed. . .
Since we are entangled in the wind,
We went,
And the fate of people
Annoyed.
In the comedy,
It is as a joke -
Ring quiet iedzinkstējās
Hand. . .

I must not miss it
It does not matter where on earth, earth,
The sea or the cloud,
With those who love me or not love,
But clearly one I know.

I should be home in April,
I April jāpārnāk!
Juice of roots in March, would pile up,
Riesties flowers under the snow starts.

But in April, when the bright blue
Over white birches līgst sky,
When the cuckoo call in pine forest,
When the bees leave the hive may be,

Thrives in my garden the first flower,
Plates of flowers butterfly eats
And I need to fly home-
I can not miss it.
***

I love you
Yellow Madaras,
I will hide
Yellow madars
from the wild cat
Yellow eyes
of dead yellow Valodzes
hide.

I will hide, white,
yellowing of the
and leaving
with a yellow wind.

My dear,
I love you
Yellow madars!
***