One Of The Tombs Sends Out The Rays… Poem by Janri Gogeshvili

The mystery, the mystery…
The exhausted and tired face…
The breath quivers the string,
And false is the grimace.

The robbed and stripped life
Is thoroughly ruined and smashed,
That fruitless tree, over there, drains
The earth with vaporous wrath.

It tramples down with its roots
The ancient tombs… the tombs grieve.
It crushes even the iron armor,
And barks down with its leaves.
That sapling is so fragrant,
So fragrant is that plant!
But the stink and stench over there
With anger wipe out the scent.

If only the thunderstorm ventured
And killed that fruitless tree,
If only that fragrant plant
Were safe, happy and free!

The fragrant plant must be saved,
For that sapling my soul prays.
One of the tombs, for sure,
Sends out the radiant rays…

9.O1.2OO3.

Translated from Georgian