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.”