The hills of Georgia greet the gloomy night
And the Aragva roars beneath me.
I feel so sad and free; my sorrow's bright;
It's overfilled with you, believe me,
With you, and only you... My melancholy
Is undisturbed and peaceful today,
My heart now burns anew and loves in folly,
And all because it knows no other way.
На холмах Грузии лежит ночная мгла;
Шумит Арагва предо мною.
Мне грустно и легко; печаль моя светла;
Печаль моя полна тобою,
Тобой, одной тобой… Унынья моего
Ничто не мучит, не тревожит,
И сердце вновь горит и любит — оттого,
Что не любить оно не может.
«It sounded above the clear river, / It rang out in the fading meadow, / It swept above the silent grove, / It lit up the opposite shore. Into the distant twilight / The river wound to the west. / Clouds, losing their gold hems, / Drifted like billows of smoke. From the hillock — firs...»
«He arrived back, a blue glacier, / Those nights from Tamara, / And then and again his wings marked / Where whir and nightmare should end. He did not sob, did not bind up / The exposed lash-striped scars. / His slab has survived beyond / The fence of a Georgian church. How strange that ...»
«Later on, there was the loft with hay / And it smelled like a wine cork / While August ran out of days / And weeds took over like the tropics. In the grass, on the sorrel, beads / Of sullen diamonds hung, / Chilling the taste-buds / Reminding of Riesling. September made headlines / D...»
«To Love, — to leave, — with the thunder not ceasing, / Trampled by boredom not even knowing the boot’s tread, / Tripping over a hedgehog, and then, for good, repaying / The cowberry’s evil with a gossamer’s web. To drink from the bough while the face / Recoils from Prussian blue l...»