Despite our hearts still correlate
I will not ever be your bound,
From you recede, I’m like a glade
That from a night porch recoils around.
Oh, women’s ways have dreadful lot!
The last melodiousness of nature
Transfigured on the seasons’ road
Keeps sorrowful fate of this kind venture.
Пусть даже смешаны сердца,
Твоей границей я не стану,
И от тебя как от крыльца
Отпрянувшая в ночь поляна.
О, жутко женщиной идти!
И знает этих шествий участь
Преображенная в пути
Земли последняя певучесть.
«Not long did youth's vain hopes delude us, / Its dreams of love and prideful fame. / They briefly, fleetingly pursued us, / Then passed like mist and no more came. / But still we chafe, our hearts afire, / Under the yoke of tyranny, / And, heedful of our country's plea, / Her true deli...»
«Of love, of hope, of quiet glory / Not long I nursed the self-deceit, / Vanished are adolescent dallies / Like a dream, like the morning mist; / But still desire burns within us; / Beneath the press of fateful power / With impatient soul / We hark the native country's summons. / We b...»
«On hills of Georgia lies the covering of night; / Aragva streams in front of me. / Such sadness and such ease; my melancholy's light, / My melancholy's full of thee, / Of thee, of only thee... No anxiousness, no pain / Unsettles my despondency; / My heart again on fire, it burns and love...»
«On the hills of Georgia lies the darkness of the night, / Aragva murmurs underneath. / I'm sad, yet light, my sorrow's bright, / My sorrow's filled with you. / With you, you only... My melancholy, / Nothing can torment or disturb, / My heart, it burns and loves anew — because / It ca...»