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Poems /
Atvadvārdi
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, And collect into pools izirstošos rays.
But not to suspend the flow of solar
And fail to arrive at your departure.
At the heart of it all should include performing,
But freezes lips whisper: \"What you want to live ...\"
And the death of the sun on the day once again threatened.
And two tears of two sisters
In a sea of bitter waves encounter.
And home is the journey\'s end.
Need a home for life
Go without haste.
Logged and look past the road ditch?
And nepārlēkt longer then ... How little is experiencing.
I throw a little rye wagon load
We stand here,
Because the land may be lost,
Although the weather turns wheel.
Once the severity can be bent to the ground?
You only have cold rose
And spruce branches can provide ...
I tell the life of the son of nine,
Worried about how to avoid the crooked path,
As concerns Gaode did not spare himself.
I\'m back, I am present
And, not knowing what to do other,
On your grave will be redundant, Mother,
I am thin, pusplaukušu bird-cherry tree.
Under the birch, the blackbird whistles,
And even parents become nepagūsim,
Only a parent will be the riverside.
At the end of the same gray tomb field ...
Will remain the land will remain in the holy land,
Which sprouts ieķersies and grow.
I rushed through the night with you -
Through silence and through calls
In which gave lavish April.
On the brink of receiving a son.
I listen to, but do not feel your heart:
I\'ve got too late.
And bending over mēmām lips;
You Aizsaules gardens, walks,
Free from the cares of land.
For life is lost forever, and shall,
Then the stars in the sky tears mirkst
And empty as a clearing house becomes the son.
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