Jahnis Rynis
Your loneliness shall grow from year to year
All friends of yours strangers will appear;
Rare the companion as kin to your mind
Rarely a flower in rocks you may find

With passing of time even those will be gone
The hight of the mountains its fate will impart'
An unceasing silence shall strangle your hearth.

The icy shield `round you shall give no rest
While yeamings all earthy will bum in your breast.