Hay and poetry in Rikava

I read the afish that Rikava would have a hay tale at the poet, Livia Liephawans, in straight sets. Take a ditch or do not take it? It's better not for those others to work, i don't like “patalcans.”
Don't get to vis! I had just arrived in Livia's comfortable courtyard, somebody holding a ditch in her hands. 'Well, honey, Anya, squirrels! The scented clover meadow was small, but it had to be picked up. Here's how much the ethnographic ensemble “Rikava” wives are! Fucking, gutter, like men! Others, on the other hand, singing on “Two Peadow”.
Livia brings the coffins to her team, and she hurries to beat the fork. In fact, only a hung wall in the coffins, but living in such a wet summer, had to bring up a whole green grass.
But what a fabulous day God gave Livia - lovely, sunny, warm! I suppose i was grateful for all the beautiful words she had devoted to her father in her poetry.
“Are there no real guys in Ricky to help the ladies?” i said. 'Oh, Ann!' says Inese. “It's a tradition for us!” Livia loves to bring friends to talks. We were already in the flax tale, also the rye in the tale. “It's a honor to teach a real field woman.”
When the job ends, Livia brings them all under the apple table, who is filled with the good of the countryside. Livia's daughters were frightened. Luban's rays are so laugh, not even more cheese with Jāņu beer! Enjoying the poet's feast, chatting in an interesting, pleasant crowd, the rikaviets singing again.
“It's time for poetry,” Livia says, and each guest presents her very new, now sixth, poetry book with a very romantic name in “white clouds.”
In heaven, how painted white clouds slid! Indeed, how can it not be dreamed in such a way?
“In white clouds, dreams, but happiness on the ground,” says Livia thoughtfully, and encourages everyone to find a poem in her book to read it in front of them. “Who must be chosen if everyone is good,” says the big singer Janina Mitchule.
His eyes wink slightly, his eyes narrowing his words like pearls in rows. One moment and we're all poetry! The poetry does not come through the ears, it comes through the heart. Her thoughts drifted with Livia's dreams.
A very small panel speaks to me. Just a few short lines, but Livia has discovered the longing of every woman:
"Do i want a lot?
Only the happiness of the strings,
Only a handful of glasses.
I don't need a half-world,
Just shoulder to feel,
Morning smile, day strength
That would give,
Lunch kiss
And the evening caress.
Do i want a lot? '

Anna Baleiša