silent sky
All quietly forgive.
What was once born,
It was once die.

the Life,
What you and I have been given,
There are so moment
Just a brief moment.

Wind atviļina distant baznīczvanus,
Stands as a monument to broken trunk pole
Covers the site and what is not covered herself tomb;
Brought birch branches, keeping intercession. . .

I know - will come once this evening,
When you no longer need to wait for the day
And when the heart can not raise at all
The wings were those that now I\'m running.

Day as vējputni shoot
Soul surrenders
Often the fate of water ran;
St. John the waves as vējrauta page. . .
Only at the tomb
Clarity of light as a seagull flies over the face.

I know that it will be all that great hour
What biases eyes with pale hands off,
And the sad procession will take us th streets
Where you no longer need to go in the spring.

Heart sink into the abyss, there is nothing which does not change,
And where maybe, maybe nothing can come.

Up there knows the pain in the heart of iron,
Up there knows how bitterly weeping for them,
Who quietly falls asleep and there is not taken,
As lost in the black waters.

Up there knows. . . But why decided
They are some of the great pain, arguably,
To uzzīd heart like bitter chrysanthemum,
What a glamorous flourish when the breath of autumn feel.

I be able to do so much good,
For once allowed to be your light
I say thank you to my life?

You\'re gone forever
from the garden and the house,
You\'re gone forever
of the world.

measured by life?
What is the life span can be measured?
With seven feet. I do not know each other.
With what remains after death.
With humanity.

his mind until the last minute
Listen more caring and joy.
The same did not understand the strenuousness of his own -
Left the world a smile and laughter.

Autumn poignancy summer broke,
Winds lapkritī wants to bury this life,
but the sun kernel does not disappear - forever
light stays planted. . .

once said that human life pitiek
get in the trees, kill snakes and breed son.
Now is not enough!
Oh, get in the tree is not enough,
Snake life the last day of the last blink too late:
enough, enough, enough.

. . . Heavy fall in the wind
flowers bowed heads of the clan. . .
And never,
and never,
and cease to be never-
not you my voice migratory birds,
my eternal rush,
I do not work near svilkto we buy
a caring touch. . .
Oh, how I now understand:
the most difficult - it is empty,
emptiness without meeting in the morning.

So there you are - work and haste -
Sudden end. . . and it\'s enough.
And sobbed more heavy pines in the wind
about what we could.

But just as the man to go bald and come
memory is not even allowed to pick up,
and the green world as a field neienācies
the circle of light, which called for life.