i did this way back, in my student years, because the translation that was, was so effeminate that it lost the brisk efficiency of the game of life and death, and the moment of awareness of both. so here it goes – in eng and in lv.
Little Fly, Thy summer’s play My thoughtless hand Has brushed away. Am not I For I dance If thought is life Then am I |
Sīkais ods, Tavu deju Neapdomīgs Iznīdēju. Vai ne es Jo es dzeŗu, Ja viss vien māns- Būšu vien |