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My country is my love,
To whom I’ve given my heart.
To you I sing, my greatest happiness,
My flowering Estonia!
Your pain boils in my heart,
Your pride and joy makes me happy,
My country, my country!
My country is my love,
I shall never leave her,
...Last days of August ... autumn is already advancing.
The sun was setting. Sudden gusts of rain, no thunder and no lightning, just flashed over our broad plain.
Garden before the house burned and smoked, all bathed in the morning fire and flood of rain.
She sat at a table in the living room and a stubborn looked pensively...1.1
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