|
|
|
Best Poems From JANRI GOGESHVILI
(1946; 31/I)
|
|
| |
|
|
13.
|
THE “BLITZ DEMOCRAT”
The powerful “fraction of liberty”
Held a meeting at last:
The two-faced man took his chance,
Betrayed the former times – the past…
The party of “blitz-democracy” was formed…
It was formed… and stood fast…
19.06.1993
Translated from Georgian
Janri Gogeshvili
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
14.
|
THE CACTUS FLOWER LOBBIES NEEDLES...
When the wicket smiles and
The sun dozes at the window,
The grief depart slowly,
The tears shine on eyes...
Eyes -yes… lips cannot say lies!
The cactus flower lobbies needles,
If the jealousy increases the tone,
Love games dress up...
Janri Gogeshvili
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
15.
|
THE CREATOR IS YOUR WARRANTOR…
He - who prospered thanks to the feud,
Was favored with the title of a henchman,
The false glory became a tombstone
To the wall mouldered by centuries.
Thanks to the free will of his protector,
He adapted himself to the hard times,
His life “inspired” with the evil thoughts
By the court-poets was prized…
They, too, gained profit from that,
Were awarded their cherished “prize”,
Their deceitful souls stormed and raged,
They thought themselves “great and wise.”
The coward called our truth a farce,
The ambiguous thing he said:
“The creator seems your warrantor,
Otherwise, you’d have lost your head…”
27.09.2002
Translated from Georgian
Janri Gogeshvili
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
16.
|
THE DROOPING ROSE NEEDS NO MAKE-UP…
You just die, – you just pass away,
And it’ll be all right, OK…
Your wife will read the Psalms
In a soft voice and prey.
She’ll weep a little and lament,
She’ll wear mourning dresses and fret,
And whisper to the dearest
Daughters and sons:
“My kids, your father
Has turned to dust…”
You just die, – you just depart,
And it’ll be OK… it’ll be all right.
The violets and the snowdrops
Will wipe out the winter,
The tiny bird will weave
Passion with twitter,
And the breeze
Will sing night’s tale to the leaves…
The widow will look in the mirror,
And take a pencil in her hand…
No make-up is needed, you know,
For a rose drooping her head…
She may notice your gaze, –
The zeal heavy with years,
She may see the sham
Mirrored in your eyes…
Then she’ll smile… and shed tears…
You’ll pity her and think
You’d better stay with her,
You’d better look
After the cornfield of your desire…
You’d better work with all your heart,
And reap what you have sown…
And let your beautiful wife
Be a violet to you… or a rose…
17.01.2003
Translated from Georgian
Janri Gogeshvili
|
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|