my hand,
leads me, people,
By your present
And the past!
Show me myself
To melt my soul
Smokošie waters
And I live and animated
A sense of what I see,
And to feel again
You have a clear way
I am giving back.
You are shy!
You repaired the cheek?

Yes, my people,
I know you!
You\'re a small,
And your efforts
And your mērķīši
Tiny, tiny,
Tiny is.
Lukewarm is your
Love!

Is lax toothless,
Except that only safe slēptnes
throws his dart!
Your virtues
There apvazāti-
Neither white nor black!
Your vices
Are small Naughtiness!
Your truth
And the defenders of truth
Bends and rushes
Back and forth,
Looking at humor
Vajadzībiņām days.
You have no beauty,
But a healthy stomach
And an enviable slumber.
Your jokotāji
Go Heavy, clumsy steps,
They laugh at
Arouses sadness,
And noise, which sometimes
Your market is heard,
It rises behind the ordure.
Your mental speculators and researchers
Yet born,
So you can be proud
With the high wisdom
Learned men.
And thy glory premises
Out there and see?
Seven centenarian
the shackles of slavery.

Everywhere, everywhere
With a stake of citizens
Funny gravity
You are partially charged and
Golden middle way!
Meanwhile, the happy
Walk left to the host
Stylishly dressed
Bode journeymen
With glazed gardibenēm
Artificially krūzotās heads;
And old Jumpravas
With fake breasts
and fake roses on the cheeks;

Honestly fathers
What a glass of beer
And a glass of vodka
-No more, no less-
Tend to drink comfortably.
And mother,
That look to the right
And left
After the daughters fit for men -
And other large grazing.
But the poet of love
Gold in the mid-Highway
It does not go
With daudzpardauzdiem,
It turns apart.

But you, but you!
You aizžogo all
Untrodden paths,
Leading mountain
To freshen the air.

Cruelly
You wear them with you
By everyday dust
And hit him show
Again and again
You have your dull
Colorless image.
A curse on me,
That manim ifis
A living mirror,
Which reflected
Only nediža
Videjība!
Curse my weakness!
How many times, how many times
Anger and annoyance
I\'m not a throw harp,
Thinking thoughts:
While I will
Not love anymore!
Be broken
Then link to you,
Free then I would have
Nation of you!

But this unfulfilled desire. Drop pick up the harp again, once again Trinkšķinu As in the past and felt your love grow and grow.

Talavas winder

To Talavas thick coniferous forests
Night gray covered with sheets.
Over the quiet tree ends
Jodi and the nightmare rides.

Miervaldis lying in his palace,
Lying in his crowd,
Vaidelaiši sleeping guards and,
And marks the wise interpreter.

So the higher end of the firs
Watch winder,
This is a spy for the enemy
Near and far away.

Here, as in dreams it seems
Steps secretly that cab,
The lances pašķindētu,
That horse hooves klab.

And noise rising around the tree,
Arrow up and running,
And sharp teeth ax
Spruce Stumbure crawling.

\"Come horn! Climb to the ground! Be quiet!
Saving your own life!
We algosim you with gold,
With dignity, with freedom! \"

\"My gold is my people,
My honor is his honor,
That ravaged scourge him,
To hell to pull the iodine! \"

And bugler blows with a force
The tree tops shaking,
And downstairs you hear curses,
And arrows spindz and SiC.

Torch red glow of fire,
Starts to rain cut to cut,
Shaking, rocking stately tree
And brākšķ, and falls, and falls.

And feeding taurētāja
spears and axes digested -
But the trumpets sound the Castle
Of sleep Miervaldis built.

And he and his regiments
The fight leg AUN
And swordtail towards fucking,
Zen stiegnājā them and shame.

But the victory jubilee celebrations
Girls crowns pin
Character and good old mother
Snow-white cloths tin.

Place it at the stake shall be made in
Of oak Pazar,
And the bride flowers are shedding their
And amber pieces.

And while savaidītās flame
A young man brings to the gods,
Sings the praises of men,
Zelio crying girls.

Midsummer!

There\'s water viz, there\'s a boat is traveling,
There\'s girls happy midsummer,
There, the boys brought aires article
And laugh, and rejoice: St. John\'s Day!

Leaning against the railing on the shore,
I lift my hat: St. John\'s Day!
Goodbye, my youth,
good-bye, ardieviņu Ligo!

unexpected evening

Already the sun fly to debessmalu,
Go rush to the end of the week.
How much longer, had a Monday morning,
And, alas the day, how little has been done!
I wanted to eat a large, wide Druvu
And it is not quite did not manage to corner!
I wanted the room to put large, bright windows,
Around the lush gardens aptaisīt fences,
I wanted to set the bellows claw
And then the fun neighbors good snack to eat.
But was hampered by the heat and rain, and this and that,
Also not so long naps,
Should not have been so long naps -
Thoughts at the most have been discarded.
But nothing is missed by pity,
Yeast, clouds rose begins to glow and plaucin,
Already ringer in the tower went up, as soon as
This holy evening herald.
Another stundiņa time until nightfall - maybe
Maybe something else will be able to rush and get.

As soon!

On the way swayed flower branch.
I stand, and variegated row
In the distance running: former kāznieku swarm
Bell chanting, šķinda.

And before I thought had long
Noise and Dzirnieku a stately;
And before I think the branch had
Fallen flowers white.

And I feel weird Baig
Soul walked over.
As soon contumely cry sounds
Silence rode as fast!

skyward swell in a quiet pine,
Over the golden evening they\'re doing.
The sun sinking into the sea dzeltengudra,
And false steps into gait.

And, waiting gently piekļaudamās,
With hot puff my dear. . .
Not raise your hands, not the words to speak -
Rehn evening die, and stars zvīļo.

sand under your feet,
The road bends in the mountains.
What I bring so cute
In their hands?

To my heart
And in my arms
Sleeping, blood dzerdamas,
My agony.

whistles winds torn mākoņburās,
Quietly crying autumn rain.
On my desk vases
Beloved flowers wilt.

Another solar garden sweet smell of summer
From The fog lifts. . .
Soon my heart white dreams
Eternal snows class.

markets

Well the noise Rimi, dead is a big market
Zviedz, away aizrikšodams, the last horse
Standing in the stockyards and the cage residues
The card has an apple in the air stump.
How kuls is trampled down all around the field,
Do hereafter no other year grass thrive
Where ants as people came and went,
Compressive, sported and drove, rode?
Here desinieks and colon Bulk Baba
With a handful of their money Poke grabs
This fat Kupcis dragged a good role
And tukšodami filled bag for yourself.
Here Gypsy noise house, who rides alternation,
Here the Jew to \"buy clothes\" was.
Here traded - and seemed to be immaterial -
The long effects foolish scribe,
As long as a fortune teller, torque street organ,
The performance told where happiness shores.
Here, too, a beggar asking for his head bending
And girls having fun with the guys slammed
And strolled dipped Mountain pine -
Everything went the old, old old track.
This market hot sand dust
I can do all day long late.
Addition criss-purpose ride across the wound,
The skirt folds I defiled,
The sausage I was not present in the cage,
Because I have such a strong o\'clock elbow,
That it is often through the crowd to be able to shoulder -
I did not want there to snoop inside.
Where klajāks had there quietly walked
And some rare friends I met.
One other saprazdamies hand juicer,
The heat and the new time, a judgment.
But, now resorted deeper words
And heart to heart freely open account when
Then, once a surge of people power
And negotiations, we sort of pulled parties.
Then marching with an empty smile on his face
On the bottom of the hill and down the hill
And I saw some of the sides of the line k torch
How big Jeske small Jeske cheated,
And I felt that I took from the back,
What Pirmin even drank from my cup,
And finally, I find this despicable Bourget nick -
But still did not like to go away.
Well the noise Rimi. Blush west
already says: Good night day will bring.
By pine pakrēsli go home
And walking quietly about yourself laughing.
As of this date all did!
And now? As for what I had come?
Do me a teiten supposed to?
All skrietin is without me and ran it.

The basement window

Where the bleak light of day in a chair NID,
along the walls of moisture shall distil upon land slides,
There\'s a young man on the bed vārgst and languish,
It dvēs\'les grieve long and thirsty tvīkst,
Tālēm of it as a patchwork of life in Switzerland,
And it suffers, the song she says.

I know now everywhere roses bloom,
After the honey bees in flower spotted Lied,
The meadows pink wall grābj daughter,
From the owner down a high pile on the rise
After the wall was busy catching guys lap,
Berries and small jade grass ver.
To the boys in the bushes after cattle runs,
What a cool stamp does iztvīkuši Brien.
As a home guard on the threshold of my grandfather sitting
And looks to the sky: cloud or DED
or does it, then slid it grows and Kus,
And or on another day of rain will be?

Old mother in the garden līkājas,
Another sīpoldobes Nava weed,
And cabbage in need rušināt
And sometimes small cradle move.
Since each of his works may work,
While the sun is behind the spruce forest drown.
Then, coming home, a subsidiary of fun to sing
And position in the garden, where roses bloom
And the guys joked at zediņiem,
And daughters of white flowers cast upon them,
Consequently, the grandfather of the new people\'s pleasures is confusing
And all of music is called dinner.
Then dusk descends silk wings
AUSEKLITIS over the hill and turns,
And the wise men of soft hands turns sleeping -
One guy on his chest rose snow. . .

I know, now rose, tribulation,
My Wand so without BAL and languish in the sun.
There are no girls in hi

Blessed is that doubly blessed it,
Who lives such luck happens!
To top up dibenasm drunk dry
From each one full cup of life!