bare soul.
Like a butterfly, and fog.
As the bird - partridge -
White and quickly.
Saturiņicīts>
\"To your health, land!\"
Today we bring hard words.
It is a stone falling on his chest,
Through all his life nenovelt.
Saturiņicīts>
Heart cemetery is the tomb of one more
When a bright star dries away.
The amber autumn road
As the storm breaks magnificent lime.
Saturiņicīts>
smagmes full.
Full of life. . .
-----------------------
You, nestunda, oh, why come
So useless at the moment
When a man collect the fruits?
Saturiņicīts>
Life nozib along the eye
Bright as lightning.
For walking time
You want to be sure.
Saturiņicīts>
Every great book of life
Name your left to put into gold;
Each includes arrive at it,
Working with its work to bind together,
So that when the last one done,
A uniform brightness all over the trembling.
Saturiņicīts>
Wood can become detached stone - crumble, disintegrate,
Time can dissolve all relationships,
But the people who sacrifice themselves,
Her heart never will exist,
Although many will be able to regenerate, but not to die.
Saturiņicīts>
songs can not safely take off wings,
Clear voices hum and away fly away,
Burned in pain when the heart rather than yours.
Saturiņicīts>
peace and clarity so sweet
Still resonates with me from the mother\'s cheek,
When the views of memories
There, in these wrinkles, fine,
The words get tired of reading:
Love does not end!
Saturiņicīts>
It is the parent rock, which has led me
All roads are always difficult, and increasingly,
And so goes life on the go year after year.
And although the day for me as Swans storm run,
Rock me, this is still supporting it,
Based as the very first step.
Saturiņicīts>
And the force is not a power
What could it something a bit delayed.
And although we have ever hours seem so long,
Time is running like the wind, can not stop it. . .
Saturiņicīts>
new day comes with a new three
A new light shining heart gives,
Only that love him and do not prohibit.
Saturiņicīts>
the Lost no return.
Gurd wings wise Rice.
Saturiņicīts>
When were you last gave
forces, and had lost all
of dying stars svētrītā
the flames go out quietly.
Saturiņicīts>
asked the youth,
With the roses leaving:
\"When you come again
rings is home?
When you come in where and how? \"
\"Smith. Baltsmilšu hill. \"
Saturiņicīts>
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