The qual­i­ty of the record­ing is not the best, but should be good enough to give a feel­ing for the sound of Livo­ni­an. Click to lis­ten to this sto­ry in Livo­ni­an.

My loose trans­la­tion of a Lat­vian trans­la­tion of this sto­ry:

Boys! Let’s go down to the beach and check the nets,” grand­fa­ther said to both boys who were still eat­ing their bread. Soon all three were walk­ing over the hill down to the sea. “Don’t step on the mush­rooms,” grand­fa­ther said pulling aside the small­er of the boys, “When we come home, we’ll pick them and have them for lunch.” Down on the beach grand­fa­ther sat down on the side of an old row boat. The boat was dam­aged, but it still made for a good place to sit. Boats and sea gulls could be seen and heard down on the water. The sea gulls cir­cled the boats hop­ing to also get some fish. There was always some­thing left for them. “How do they man­age to keep up with the motor­boats?” the boys won­dered, watch­ing the sea gulls cir­cle. “On dry land they are very clum­sy,” grand­fa­ther said, run­ning his hand over the boy’s disheveled hair, “They have to man­age. If a sea bird does not have strong wings, it can­not sur­vive. Sea gulls can’t take their wings for grant­ed. They are of a strong sort, just like fish­er­men.”