Spring meadow

I went there, it happened a long time ago, but the memory stayed with me. It was beautiful, vast, flat, my meadow was beautiful. It was all covered with flowers, with an entrance of lights and gold, there, under the hill it was hidden. A strange, unknown place... I stayed for a while, but I hastened and returned. I said goodbye to the rocker stirrup, I responded with silence at the blow. But I went again after a while. And I quickly returned again. I bore my heavy burden, but I embraced life with both hands. It's just my lawn I don't let loved ones there! She opens a great wound, do you cross the opening with lights I know I'll give back someday this time forever though… And I don't want any of you for me people of my heart, to cry.

Blue cloud in the sky how they remind us and talk to us, that spring will decorate again with waters and sun the mountains, the woods with birds and sieves. The south itself flies to us with the wings of countless flocks. The trees swell in buds, the forest shines with rays, and lying on the rays the dust makes itself a slide. It's only light that hurts the woods don't even have shade. And the whole native country now it's a sunny meadow.