In this valley

Anshe



The depth hardly gets even lightning,
grass woven carpet, and the winds are silent,
butterflies there, in the bushes of amaranth, Magenta,
snake rapid river, the distance of the azure sky
so high and witness to the fall
the old gods would do well glasses for reading.
Dark green vines wrapped surrounding area
the fiery disk full spares these areas,
in this valley whore like ripe apples,
newt under the sun, desirable, juicy, sweet.
Ringing fun people there said the vinalia,
to the beat of these songs is dancing the land under sandalye.
Someone suffers from wine, and to the public praying
every beast tries on a mask of the slave.
Someone leaves themselves in a beautiful ornament
or in a century by sending the words on the parchment,
the young artist draws unfeminine charms
in a light mist and the morning rustle of the Laurel,
the old poet is ruled by the syllable these days of lust.
In this valley only time happiness podvlastno.