... and live in the beam of light to break sharp and cruel naked - but the truth is.

Time passed by ice cold race
three hundred or three hours.
When modāmies, already the mother went
gatve by ash in the sky.

of the song I\'ve checked out,
I have to stay on the track,
burn me once
song once and throw -

the song, which is my land
These people and these houses,
once you take me
either back bend.

closer to the cloud, smoke in the top of the breath,
pipes in the wings heaves Dome.
You were closer to me for a hug, dear,
but now I must go through rožukrūmu away.
Rosary runs through your fingers
something else to capture. But the cloud has already sown
against necaursitamu, to bronze, paving,
and thrive in your hands thorny wind.
Wind enticing flourishes as mimosa, the plan
and transparent artist\'s face. Vol
black cloud. I look back and see -
wind you slowly pour into the garden in a vase.

you go ...

It - your book on the table.
Well the wind as there is right there.
And unfolds yet further, the same bitter bitter people.

Sifted ashes soul
ash gray day -
furnace mouth has gone out,
nelēkā spark.

No winter shall not be stored
as our beloved die:
often covered with blizzard
and becomes the father land.

And it was snowing solemn commemoration.
And though no one will die.
Apsegsies as a blizzard
And will become the homeland.

Aizkrita old book covers, went white candle
nozviedzās cry foals, the book left guy.

Our souls who laughs, our souls, that hurts,
Our mind picks up the candle above the organist.

... izdzisīšu,
But even long sāpēšu
As a distant light
You have my heart.

I\'ll go. You must remain
There is more brightness,
When a large white star performance,
When the night I cross Brien.

feet whistled shrilly winds
And shoulder deposit Courland pliens.
You will also find the time could not -
It had your silver thread.

These days, that was,
Extinguished forever barking.
One star has to be screened
Black sky screens.

... From me to Emergency quietly
You are an island on the day the Terrible.
Well Dusia rose garden,
Ērkšņi and protects you.

you go in the morning, a loud morning thrush,
It is good to leave the track.

time comes to leave the house every
And yet drawing paths measured
Through red cherries lie through the heather,
Through the russet puriem Assistants.