| The full-orbed moon her lustre sheds And floods the land with lambent light. The snowy ridge of distant mounts Dissolves into the heavens bright. Deep quiet holds the breath of night; My mother-land in silence lies, Yet oft is heard an anguished moan As Georgia in her slumber sighs. I stand alone... The mountains, shades, The slumber of my land caress. O God! O God! when will we wake And rise again to happiness? |
The pale light of the full moon Was streaming on the fatherland And its white ray among the mountains Hovered in deep blue space. Nowhere a sound, nowhere a cry Nothing born of parents stirred Save sometimes crying in pain Some Georgian sobbing in his sleep was heard. Again alone... and the mountain's shade Caressed my native land in sleep Still sleep O God! Sleep, always sleep When shalt thou deem us worthy to awake? Ilia Chavchavadze Works Translated by Marjory and Oliver Wardrops Ganatleba Publishers Tbilisi 1987 |