When I no longer nepārnākšu,
It will remain white fields
It will remain white woods,
So will a song
I have sung. Saturiņicīts>
Rose loved you;
But you were the thorns,
Wings loved you,
But the severity of you were,
Did you go and such,
Consequently, fell through.
Then the birds from Bird Road
You picked up
Eternal flight ...
Tek fine bass dzīvībiņa
Between two suns in the morning dew ...
Gone to feel the peace,
We life on this earth to be! Saturiņicīts>
Oh, my dear, while I was with you,
Still remain on the ground root cerojums:
Grandmother still lights up at the door,
Comes from the grandfather to come Tīreļpurvs,
Throw wood oven. House warm for long. Saturiņicīts>
yet seen the river looking back home
And, by the Heaven side flow length.
More bees started šīvasaras vacuum,
More than all bent grass grasshoppers march ...
How cruel life spans of time for us severely inhibited:
For a free misfortune, for a fee pleasure.
Falls less solar pieckapeikas hand,
Until the blank is enough sun. Saturiņicīts>
swans white clouds go
I prayed they would like to run,
There, in the distance, where the winters do not know,
Where roses bloom forever and nenovīst. Saturiņicīts>
short life span and turns,
Is close together - the cradle of tomb;
However, the weight of every moment,
Life is good, which is good. Saturiņicīts>
heyday, and flowers will thrive
The tombs of its flowers,
My accommodation is quiet and nice,
Woe to me anymore \'scared. Saturiņicīts>
I hand-make
To the ground rigid
As his father\'s fingers fingers
Once provided,
So softly, softly,
To enter into life ...
I call you, just echo Nava,
And as the swan song breaks Hoot pitiful.
Saddened Burnt Sand Dunes and Grassland,
Morning and late evening light feel. Saturiņicīts>
Can love be silent as a tongue ring,
if the icy hand of death affect?
It - Amber Sea organ play,
It - zibšņots amber mirror boom,
It - tomorrow\'s hearts and songs will elect:
is alive and eternal human spirit!
Nenorausiet Tears to freezes:
Youth from us, here, go away!
For every eye pain returner read,
For every pine mourning song sung. Saturiņicīts>
you have not hearing the voice of nightingales:
Shattered ax around me just caught the coffin shut.
Rural residents with the boy\'s heart,
Your life snow bird-cherry blossoms ...
Is a black cloud over the sun built?
Or hail, the shoots nocirtusi, dull?
Is the thunder nogāzies and birch Stumburs a slice?
Why are your friends so quiet and sad standing?
A misunderstanding? And unusual haste!
Yet so far dawn you had to look!
I will make you a blue track on the chest,
To light up the ground to go into the ground.
How hard flowers! How hard to put them!
Just midday. But the sun set. Saturiņicīts>
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