For George Leonidze. By Vazha-Pshavela (translation by me).
For the first time, in adolescence, When I was just starting to open my eyes, Weeping, while catching the essence, Of my homeland, agonized- I was searching desperately, For a helping hand, delicately, Nobody was a guard, For our oppressed land, So, I started weeping harder, I was bursting into tears, as if I was […]