«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...»
«My voice, to which love lends a tenderness and yearning, / Disturbs night's dreamy calm... Pale at my bedside burning, / A taper wastes away... From out my heart there surge / Swift verses, streams of love, that hum and sing and merge / And, full of you, rush on, with passion overflowing. / ...»