• Язык:
    Латышский (Latviešu)

Kad lidoja iz dzīves dzīles...

Когда из темной бездны жизни...

Kad lidoja iz dzīves dzīles
Mans lepnais, apskaidrotais gars,
Man veltītajās bēru dzīrēs
Sērst sāka motīvs bēdīgais.

Šai melodijā, slīgstot pāri
Pār marmorzārku, kurā es,
Vēl skūpstīja man lūpas, pieri,
Par mani skuma sievietes.

Un es no gaišās ēterbrīves,
Vēl atceroties bijušo,
Lai mīlestība mūžam dzīva,
Nu atgriezos uz zemi šo.

Un kļuvu es par ziediem, lapām,
Un dziedāju kā mirdzošs strauts,
Lai aromātiskajām lūpām
Man skūpstīt mīļos vēlreiz ļauts.

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Remember the palace of giants…

Remember the palace of giants, / The pool, full of silvery fish, / Alleys of planes, the highest, / And keeps made of huge stone bricks; / / As my golden horse at the towers / Was prancing, so proud and strong, / And gems decorated his harness / In patterns of delicate work. / / ...

The ship

"What d' you see in my eyes, slightly sparkling, / In my look, hazed with opaque mist?" / "There I saw the sea's deepest darkness / With a big sunken beautiful ship. / / That fine ship... More glorious and braver / None had seen over deep of the sea. / Its high masts under windbreath ...

A fragment of «Tale of Kings»

Once a dark horseman oh a black horse came / He was clad in a black velvet cloak, full of pride. / And his look was so dreadful, as a town aflame, / And so glaring as a flash in the night. / / Curly hair upon shoulders like serpents did twist, / And his voice was a song of the earth and...


Today, I can see that your glance is especially sad, / And hands are especially thin and the hair if up fluff. / Hey, listen, as far as in Africa, down at lake Chad / Is walking a graceful Giraffe. / / He's owing that elegance, slender and languor he is, / Such beautiful patterns are sh...

The Gates of Paradise

There are no seven diamond seals to close / the eternal gates of God's great paradise / it has no tempting charms, no beckoning glow / and to the people remains unrecognized. / / a doorway in a wall long since forsaken / a mass of stones and moss and nothing more. / nearby, a beggar, ...

A portrait of a man

His eyes are lightless underground lakes, / Abandoned castles of the ancient kings. / Marked with the sign of the eternal shame / Of that, the Other One, he never speaks. / The deepest wound, his mouth, dark and purple, / Made with a blade borne of the deadly poison; / And it is sad and ...