She Winged The Flight Of Those Lines… Poem by Janri Gogeshvili

The woman raising castles in the air
Couldn’t rise to the skies – couldn’t flit…
She resisted the sincere feeling,
And, now, keeps on crying for it…

Love of country is a mask at times,
And a show is a thing that matters.
The tiny babe toddles in that show,
Swells his nostrils by steal, and prattles…

But the verses of the lone poetess
Adorn her fancies with bliss,
The grief, never seized by her granny,
Teaches her to fly in her dreams.

23.07.2000

Translated from Georgian