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How we started charity since we were only 14 years young
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Poems
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How aizmūža white wheels,
I wish this land to others
This expansion in the land itself.
Face tear fell,
But until the last of vālam
Nepakrita grandfather. . .
I feel you so noble spirit.
Dreamer!
Eternal quietude,
To you we rarely walk a miss.
You still think: so much addressed
. . . Evening brutally takes shears -
All elections were breaking down.
And silence you.
Do all picked up?
Or all nine?
Or were the mower?
Or were grābējs?
Or to Emergency zudināt?
Or were the savior?
Silence all around.
Over the mountain coming days.
Since you are doomed.
Since you have one.
Long and colorful life is.
Dream the dark walls of spruce
Bitter winds are blowing.
For autumn becomes rudenīgāks mind.
Even hold a candle sažņaugtajā riekšā,
As it burns, who had built up over years.
And we do not exceed your brightness,
Where every word on our hearts grow
How warm the sun passes through our hands,
Oh, not to believe that the lesson comes in black
And so lost an invaluable friend.
You Latgola - ground bolt. . .
Tys myužs, DHW Dīveņš the sun has given,
With you, Latgola, piļdeits.
Cries our hearts to the winds.
Longer with us you could not. . .
Harsh burn marks furrow morning.
Friends that will last them a long time.
In order aside bitter mounting terror,
You uzziedēsi memories.
Who knew how many warm.
Take Fate - breaking open a living bridge
We live in the path of pain remains.
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