COAST SPEECH

Shore waves and wind, and
Sea in the heart of a Latvian
Spīvi MEDA and šņākuļo,
devastating impact on my hearing.

The long-standing and salt, and
nose to drain yourself redundant,
Izsaldēju soul and head
the only Latvian joy.

Sea washing and collapses, and
washing again and JuK.
(Other laundry and collapses, and
washing again and JuK. )

For ever and ever, time times
now or never.
Hold on, mouth, bore, buttocks,
Shut up, bad soul!

While the rippling, something
thrilled to be something of a hot -
And still holding, I\'m alive
I have a weight.
And over on you can no longer
seeing no boats, no sailing.
And as I Demosten
blau sea.

quietly lapping waves around the sides of the vessel
twenty girls\' hands, which breaks away
instinctively pats
from his forehead, full of intent moldings,
and mouth full of green mīļvārdiem
like the sea, and just as quiet as the sea
the range.
Comes to mind thoughts of the vessels, they
sink without one vaida
Shrove Tuesday and sea intertwine over the spiral arms,
but I go to my ship,
as quickly as a summer dragonfly,
where strange mountains stand watch on their own,
where people leave smiles

and carefully going over the steep slopes
downhill.
Twenty girls hand dej
VĒJIŅŠ expanded waves
fresh breeze makes darling will never appear before
gloomy marble tab,
but the dead are all beggars, who knew the dance of life

on the verge of death.
With full sails now I\'m going to get there.

Neklepo you aizbiedēsi laundry
What sagājuši the kitchen and cook the potatoes.

Behind the wall nerimstot sounds quiet, quiet voices.
And dishes rattle, and seems to hear a waltz.

Someone plays a mouth organ invisible
And we provide the endless pain.

We have stopped all survive,
But they pretend they do not understand.

And all the sleeping pills drink to hear it too late.
And my wife was peeling potatoes in them.

We live in expectation, and plants, again at night
They meet in the kitchen and the waltz in his stroke,

They are written in a mirror, and her poetry
In the morning, gently caressing our faces.

Seeking Gaudens mornings, when everyone gets up angrily,
After the ground smelling kitchen, the laundry Cyrus.
Kitchen chairs and ask us how we\'re doing.
One dish itself takes and washes.
Where, O man, the soul, they are in our late
And our kitchen and our potatoes.

DEDALS AND IKARS

(And took years and years, even longer,
By pataisa wings. But the boy
Bland in Crete and loved daughter)

They stand in the air and flies next to the
Islands lying at the bottom of the white bones
Oh your crazy flying
But the old are taught not to let the sun

Digested wings in the air around žūžo
And God, looking out of the huge windows
His father tells his son to life
Father son entertained with puerile jokes

Father tells of candle light read Robison
Son has just been translated Apolinēra Area
Father mentions Ikar mother with the words vismīļākajiem
Son seduced bagātnieci
And depth aizpilsētas gate

I love you father, who were so tight down there
Father waving broad wings and lumbering laughs
Because the boy is kept in strict
while the izdīgst mustache
Until the boy turns up forces
and tenderness across the grain kūsā

Son uzšaujas stand in the air and sing
and throws a loop of death
Forget all the wrongs Věže wings
and whistle
By melting the wax dripping on his back
Oh the sheer wide sea you\'re terrible blue

But still try to land on
Wings a little further stays
He was bitten by the teeth and fights
Above the sea

Anticipation of death bedim beautiful eyes and wide
Father flies on fly
and neatskatās

live creature living memory,
Dead memory sleeps,
Dead is dead,
Alive is sleeping with live -

I go and lie down
Next to the memory,
Far away in the rain and flowers.
Sleep, my dear.

or pale lilac
Pušķotu catafalque?

Memory, when we will be old,
Then tell me -

Where in the attic
I left my
Bright lilac
Pušķoto

Memory - like life.
Just one.

Helps Memory:
To infinity pull it into my long road
To destruction!

Everything has already been memory -
What can I do, you tell me.

Is the house from the river and wood
(Where my soul men
Neatrodamajās home to their rooms,
Endless corridors of the blood vessels)
Is the world a small

Behind it breathes quietly. . .
Do not be afraid? Your Memory
Asleep.
One Step.
Not Closer.
Not away.

And you atskaties on your memory -
Like to see a child:

Between two breaths wrong child
And Spotting Crooked Roots
What grow from white Eternity
Also, on my end.

(One Step.
Not Closer.
Not away. )

And you realized yourself as a child:
At the moment That you are strong. Else is deception.

asleep RAM

Neaizmirstules flower
And earthworms, which remembers the case. . .
Do earthworms mind?
It asks me.

For a blood flower
And earthworms with nepārālietu,
They will live
My own mind, its own integrity,
My memory.

Neaizmirstules flower
And earthworms, which remembers the case,
Sleeping in my memory.

Living creatures
With my memory.

Memory alive.

clouds go
never nenolīt
disturb you,
Zemenītes


but touch wood
(Soul dwells in the tree)
Tears of the resin
and you, Zemenītes

hair in a flash
meteorite falls
swinging above you,
Zemenītes

be still alive to put a candle
eyes laced
there is death there is death,
Zemenītes

go over the area piedrazotu
namely either as avoiding the
of debris spotted and sharp
behind the pile engine jump
the law which came into force

As you walk in your house
by landfill
with eyes eagerly searching
their palaistuvi

behind the pile engine jump
the law which came into force

YOU STILL WATCH

All, in all
pārbirzis dust powder.

Some memory stumble
go to a place of punishment
in the forest, the morning
is affected.

And the rain still drips
of sadness,
and feel the mist
lament
professional and heart rending.

Everything, everything about it -
that it will -
I loaded,
do you still watch.

poem about CARAWAY

Maybe the beer will flow a river,
perhaps the scent of cumin,
maybe I\'ll finally finish
the story of two families.

Lived two families,
who ate only cumin.
Forced to the wall both families,
the place still smells like cumin.

Come, I will shew thee a story,
that with those things ķimerē.
Maybe the beer will flow a river,
perhaps the scent of caraway.

more years -

Go, man, go
on the road between the breasts,
the dirty panes
Read by dej,
Go, man, go!

Years beyond -

Go, man, go
on the road between the breasts
suddenly turned left
chambers of the beating,
Feel salinity last
gurstošajos some comforting her.
The dirty panes
Read by dej,
Go, man, sure, go, man, go.

Years beyond

EXOTIC ISLAND

Aizpeldēsim the island
and izdzersim there own beer!


I can see the flashing of the world,
fata morgana, sand island.

There is a water mirror of infinite
clear, smooth and innocent.

Bluish fish down a Saudi,
they walk everywhere, but neapmaldās.

On the island I want to see the crab,
What guage to the ground as we both.

Grab
crab:

both
well!

Both
well!

Grab
crab.