Brenča of Spring

Iodine, which is now the head of
All of our young people!
They even find it hard to bode,
Or again the spring.

Mercury, calendars,
Flowers and other things,
Cranes, swans, they ask,
Or again the spring.

I do not need it when asked.
I have two pairs of gloves,
And when the two wrist through
Then again spring.

First months of marriage

Labrītiņ, heart! Well good morning,
You are my golden Beetle!
Brisk breeze has čaukst lime leaves,
Already poppies, roses in the garden thrives,
They are you waiting tvīkst,
But you do head airbags drown. . .
It is not! Vai\'g Sleep away to heal,
Wait a minute, will go to help hone the eyes:
Kizi, kizi, čibučabulīt!

A few years later

E, get up! Floor, Liz!
What is left out!. . . Well, soon, soon!
Already Mountain Janka feet AUN,
And cows still neslauktas lairage bļaun!
Both šlaucīsies south again!
Give a Boy cibu me with something,
And pigs grūdeni put in front,
Zip, zip - or hear, and boars squeaked!
Go for that, get out of the nest!

Misfortune

What do you čīkstiet, old Cars,
Do you cartful is too tough?
\"No, we hub, dear Jaunskunga,
A full spring feel.

Nepskaužams our destiny,
Therefore, our Dzīsme sulfur,
Because once we start dainēt,
Musicians present a keg of \'Grease. \'

unrecognized poet\'s prayer

Neither the property nor the rehabilitation after the money
The gods, hear my cry,
Not for everyday bread
Bite me worry tough,
Oh, I wanted too,
For Elsa, I\'m with you!
Once the guest Home
Monthly my court
Fame-o, this expensive toys! -
Also, I have that we might be given.
For there, dear Pērkoņpapiņ,
Lysis of the poem stands Lapina!
Redzakcijas opens the door,
Laimini, and the waste basket
Not to me again Vilde,
But the poetry of other honors.
Do, Do I have the joy
I am pre-printed
Reizīti one small, one
Then I will not any longer day
At war to see the sun,
Then let my bones fall apart!

it again Spring

It again last spring,
Lark sings above the battered field
Thrush on the old linden tree branch.

What other poet to do?
Is this lovely flower time
Flew free song war?

No, oh no! It is a sacred power
Zen at the other, driven by the very
Burtinieku large crowd.

What it sings, it\'s not the weight,
Does he loved, or how will expect
Does the father behind the serial ara.

That song so good spirit!
Old worn doggerel
Unable to tolerate the new drive.

Learn from the sun?!
Who needs it? Lark in the air,
It has a less \"Ļiraļara!\"

True!

The whole assembly dozen famous deice,
He paid two houses,
Him four daughters, four sons,
Speckled acorn belt pempis pudge.

Dozen deice uznākušas sorrow,
She Jeske, she Wren,
Gentlemen summoned to the bullet-bowl,
The soldier also removed.

Iebūviešu lysis is not nothing,
Only two sons of her property,
His first time izdienējis,
This year, the John go a long way.

And now they are three standing at the tavern window,
Mother, hold of John\'s hand,
Pressed the farewell warm, warm,
Object word. . . begins to cry again.

Arrival deice. His lips blue,
Ing it and as if under the sack.
Brandvīns stinks, and the two ends of the cheek
Asariņas glow that the glass beads.

Looks in these asariņās Lize.
\"Look now, Deicīt,\" she says, Zelio,
\"We either both uznākušas grief.
They either go for so long. \"

\"What, my dear,\" she deice replies
\"What you can talk about grief!
Whether your child iebūviešiem
It is a pity as we, the hosts? \"

drunken song

Small, low dew Castle
The poppy garden
SUC sīkdami three Odin
Nenosūc through the night.

Great, great beer barrel
Kaķaraga basement
Drink three dziedoti Balina,
About naksniņu and nodzer.

Go piggledy mosquitoes song
Getting wings tremble.
Ditch krīti augšupēdu,
Sleeping, legs raustīdam.

Balina article is taking steps
Bead paper cuts:
\"Ekur foolish pub Papua -
Without Zvingule house put! \"

obligation

I was a walk in the evening and snāju
Slow steps along the rye to the house.
Laidi fingers over ears: had a soft,
Heard at the torque as a singing cīkstas.
The moon rose and silver flung his šķaidīgi
I, the spikelet, i to the rye flower blossom.
Green pond frog orchestra played excellently,
And a couple of defaulting vabuļu roaring forth ran.
One of them had so blind or so little self-conscious,
That būkšķēdama hanging off my glasses style.
The meadows white and whiter consistent manner peaceful fog allowed,
And modestly under his uzrdzēja stream.
STAR eyes shone between the clouds in a pale,
And the dog barks, a distant, distant.
How sick and tired of torque suddenly silent
And I felt the solemn nature rested.
Then timid Vēsmiņš Birzītes spoke
And then again came apsnauzdamās.
Rushed into the moist grass of fragrant dew ¬ ¬ -
Unfortunately, I was not doing bare,
And I noticed only through Kamasa alone,
That they are a warm wet Brien.
Fruitful spring - told me the mind,
However, did not feel satisfied.
Such as heart trouble drilled and ran,
And as a rebuke to top plijās.
Or was not done, as should have.
I had forgotten the evil ģieda,
Do I have a secret unhappiness brieda ¬?
At the end I fell into the mind, walking through the gate in the garden:
I\'m an ass, - I had quite forgotten about this year Ziedonis\' poetry!

If the love of chopped wounds are not always deadly, they never neaizdzīst.

first sign of love: men - insecurity, female courage.

sačakarēji.

If someone you\'re really important, then he will fight, whatever be his chance

Love is like war. .
Easy to start. .
Difficult to end. .
And impossible to forget.

not cry about it, which of you is not care. . .

Who is not happy with what he has, would not be happy with what they want to get.