colchis kirbies

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

I am Gia Jichonaia. Bilingual writer, poet. I write in Georgian and Megrelian languages (UNESCO named Megrelian among the endangered languages in 2016.) I create Kirbis in Megrelian. I work in Zugdidi, as the head of museums. I am the author of ten books. I am the author of many books published in different languages. My four-volume book was published in Tbilisi (Georgia) in 2014. Sonnets, poem prose, moon baths ', novels, The Last Walk, 21st Century Women' s Illusions, Literary Tales, Golden Age, Lyrical Drama, Sonnets, Kirbis, elegies, robai, novel, the original form of the poem "Chronicle of the Colchian Days", "White Nights of Iberia" in Megrelian.

While writing sonnets and robais, I decided to write a poem in a new form, which I called Kirbis, and
Which has been translated into various languages (English, Russian, French, Italian).
In 2019, the Colchian kirbis were published in Ukraine and awarded an international prize in Kiev. I wonder how English-speaking readers will accept it.

In 1896, in Greece, on the island of Crete, Sir Arthur Evans discovered the Phaestos Disc, which was deciphered in Colchian and printed with a gold mold. The Phaestos Disc is recognized as the world's first printed document. It was called the first book in the world (John Chadwick), for example, it mentions the cities of Crete - Kutaia, Phiti, which is equated to Kutaisi and Poti. This first printed document is two thousand and five hundred years prior to Gutenberg's book.

Apollo of Rhodes and ancient authors confirmed that before the arrival of the Greeks, Kartvelian tribes, Pelasgians, lived in mainland Greece. They inhabited Crete in particular, and that the Peloponnesian Peninsula was called Pelasgia, while the largest island of Euboea was formerly called Makris (Margon, Margalon), and the whole of eastern Crete is still called Lasithi.According to Strabo, the local priests and Coribants were Colchians. These were the priests who created the script. Greek sources refer to it as golden writing or writing in gold.

We also know about the Argonauts' journey to Colchis before the Trojan War, which aimed at obtaining Golden Fleece. (Kirib's leather-Colch, the same as Kirbi, Kvirbi, and Kiribi), on which the rule of gold mining was written. After all, the story of the Argonauts has become a kind of muse of ancient writing, there were no field of art left in that era where this story was not presented totally or partially.

According to Apollonius of Rhodes (3rd century BC), "the Colchians have preserved the ancient patriarchal altars, the pillars, and on those altars are shown the ways of all seas and lands." According to the German scholar Karl Ritter, "these plates were the original maps, and perhaps Herodotus had them when he listed the trade routes of the northern peoples, the Bosphorus and the Pontus." In his opinion - "The honor of cartographic art does not belong to the Greeks of Asia Minor at all. These plates were used by Colchian travelers and merchants much earlier." The above shows that the ancestors of Georgians possessed not only the developed maritime knowledge of their time, but also were advanced in writing.

As for the Kirbies, Apollonius of Rhodes (3rd century BC) writes in the “Argonauts”: The Colchians have preserved the Kirbies written by their ancestors, on which travelers are shown all the ways and borders of the sea and the lands. According to some ancient travelers, the Kirbies are three-dimensional boards on columns made of masonry. According to them, the Colchians are one of the first founders of world cartography and, to some extent, geography and seafaring. And my Kirbies are also a kind of response to these above-mentioned Kirbies.

 

I

The history of each country is kept as the muse aims,

Those heroisms are not only preserved at museums,

Having the shelter they glow but never stay in the lull,

And hearts rejoice since they keep shining and are never dull.

Yet you enjoy them sang like lively tunes by folks in lanes,

As they break the silence - bring us much delight and fun.

 

 

II

 

The first of the writings, called Kirbi, you ever can hear,

Hence even the scholars have left their unclosed door here,

It was entered through by both Asians and Europeans,

Met by Colchis with their usual modest appearance,

The secret curtains were opened by hosts with no fear -

Mankind just needs some time to get it to the clearance.

 

 

III

 

Whoever feels the wonders of the magic sense?

And reason for the mystery of the universe,

We’ll never get the truth - if it exists at all,

No matter, while studying the past, how deep we fall,

And Mother Nature, by all means, will keep the silence,

And keep the words from us unuttered and untold.

 

 

IV

 

If one can get the exact sense of uttered words,

Will escape being immersed in the dirts,

And will skip rashly that misleading page,

Leaving verses for mankind that will never fade...

Will keep precisely friendship ties and bonds,

One who swims wisely in the sea of words!

 

 

V

 

Our novel lives pass by on their stripes.

And the novel is the best among genre types.

The more we take life tests with our wits -

The shorter it turns up within its width.

And you still long for living joyful lives,

However you just witness that it quits!

 

 

 

 

 

VI

 

For the poet, here it is - a take-off field!

Where the world’s all mysteries are not revealed,

As it hides its charms in the bizarre vest -

At times tis strict, at times gags in its own jest,

And realizing tis not the place you believed

You try to find the role that suits you best.

 

 

 

 

VII

 

No one knows about Kirbies amongst noble bards,

Alike Ephuthi1 , fade away with no regards,

And lost those rhymes from pages of the book of fate .

Knights were trapped by Tkashmapha’s2 singing bait

While in the forest where Apollonius used to rest,

When Tkashkhochi3 kissed with passion mistress’ breast.

 

 

______________________________

1 Ephuthi – the book of fate

2 Tkashmapha – Mengrelian version of Dali – the godess of hunting,

the queen of forests in Georgian mythology

3Tkashkochi –Deity of hunting in Georgian mytholog

 

 

 

VIII

 

Tis nonsense to say everything – and you keep the silence,

And never mix with babbler mean alliance,

And you get angry as you see their filth and fake,

You wonder: “Why on earth, why for God’s sake?!

The more you hone, the purer gets your soul,

And never follow them to the dirty hole.

 

 

 

IX

 

And still, men fight so desperately with the pain -

Through sleepless nights, wait for dawns but in vain.

And those twilight sorrows having no more worth,

Form night thought that flutter like a dying moth.

Though Lord has given us at least strength to sustain,

And all delays are moved on from that day forth.

 

 

 

X

 

Unusual winds were not blowing either that evening,

And one by one, like rats, everyone was fleeing,

And those who stayed there and walked their rounds,

Waited for unrevealed secrets knowing no bounds.

It even wants to get rid of this infinite tease,

(Though, winter comes to doors with no signs and sounds).

 

 

 

 

XI

 

All of a sudden the universe burst into the open door

To fill the emptiness with essence more and more!

And the man was smoking with no care and regret,

As if the universe hung on that fading "cigarette"

Twisting in his fingers on pupose to ignore -

The essence of the matter and further threat.

 

 

 

XII

 

Injustice will still make you cry so hard,

Yet tis pity, all that again will stab your heart.

Encountering unequal battles is not a shame!

And you will melt in sorrow like wax in flame,

When all currencies change, one still remains apart -

Thirty pieces of silver keep on its “fame”.

 

XIII

 

The distant pacesetter was flying up to the sky,

As his ideals were no longer fresh or high,

And those who kept their eyes on coming dawn -

There, on purpose, much more captives were drawn,

As the future was foreseen and judged on by -

They found prophets in their souls not yet withdrawn.

 

 

 

XIV

 

Hatred is a bad feeling, forget it darling,

Instead – just catch rays of the sun stunning.

While grief drags others shoulders - can bear it not,

Those who are chosen, as a usual, suffer lots,

Yes, they can swear that they are more aware of loving.

And on the way to truth can easily untie false knots.

 

 

 

XV

 

You close your eyes and fill the life with colors once again,

And try to find more tones for the sun to retain,

To make intensive its redness, yellowness, and hotness;

To make it more wonderful and keep on its fondness;

And go beyond the reality you don’t sustain

Once you wake up – those colors lose their boldness.

 

 

 

 

XVI

 

God is with us! Yet, demons also keep on eyes, though,

And sorrow in your heart keeps aching with its steady flow

Whoever comes, whatever comes it still will ache

Yet never say a word to demons – for heavens sake!

Keep your secrets in you heart and live your life so!

Lord will help you not to make fatal mistakes.

 

 

 

 

XVII

 

Sleepless nights stirred up my thoughts all, all, again…

I wish I knew the reason though -Who would explain?

The past and the present merged in nonsense altogether.

Yet my way lost all its colors, all its pleasure.

And my heart beats with full of sorrow, ache and pain,

Though I stick to my way with none of hope in life treasure.

 

 

 

 

XVI

 

He said, he would never obey the rules,

As for the actions, nature gives him all the tools.

Since art is all on earth the makes the dynamics,

And written works depict all gestures and mimics;

So therefore the act of poem takes its moves

And dogms have none of business with its lyrics.

 

 

 

XIX

 

She comes and looks at me with probing gaze,

Then grabs, and takes me to unknow place,

So rapidly so fast that I am shaken.

She keeps the silence, and all her feelings are forsaken;

And I myself lie on the ground and give her space,

However, as a rule, she'll be mistaken!

 

 

 

 

XX

 

And still, the cold winds blow my aching soul,

Nothing is to be expected better anymore,

And life becomes so gray - as pleasures lack,

No matter if they smile to me or stab my back.

So why it happens? Days clothe me with varied robes!

Who cares whats the color - red, or white or even black!

 

 

 

XXI

 

And the depth of our thoughts will wonder us,

And the days will keep on gray and thunderous,

While being busy with projecting our life plans,

We keep on living with other lines, with other ends,

Followed by sleepless nights and daydreams, thus,

What future arranges in life, we never guess.

 

 

 

 

 

XXII

 

The time comes and even self can tire you,

You stop arguing as having no more strength to pursue.

Having no will to seek the shelter beyond one's arms.

And even self bores you more and gives your harms.

And, you get so gloomy and you feel so blue,

that believe on earth there are none of charms.

 

 

 

XXI

 

As a tree starts squeaking, it will not so soon fall down.

The whirling wind blows my anguished soul, all, all around,

And yet I pray and plead my fate for its compassion,

And for your smile to reign nearby with its obsession,

And the hope of seeing the face - to whom I am bound,

Keeps me with faith not to fall in a deep depression.

 

 

 

XXIV

 

Grammar is confused with punctuation marks,

And like traffic, controlled by lights, stops, goes, embarks.

The writer waves his words in rhymes like swords,

And the linguist gets rid mistakes of his works!

Though poetic negligence seems nice at times,

When science pedantry still follows its rhythmic words.

 

 

 

XXV

 

Life is only a goal, and a shower of thoughts,

Although the sun unreachably remotes,

It still warms our souls -its frozen spots,

And you keep on going as this feeling never stops,

As beauty is the only meaning life denotes,

The closer the goal - the less speed drops!

 

 

 

 

XXVI

 

As he is struggling with pain in wild cramps,

He looks like a madman with all his mime attempts,

A deadman color does not fade from his poor face,

And he even leaves in his heart some more space -

To whom he dreams, who still charms and tempts,

That’s followed by a cigarette smoking phase!

 

 

 

XXVII

 

Laughter burst brazenly into our souls,

After visiting one place, to others, in turn, it goes,

And strong souls suit so nicely small poor forms,

And great desires are braced with volition norms,

Some were afraid of their shame like death’s claws,

And others never worried about their deeds’ storms.

 

 

XXVIII

 

Our life is nothing but a strange dream.

And cold days mixed with tears lack sunbeams.

And everything on earth lies in profounds.

Life plays the drums and makes us dance to its sounds!

"And what's behind the door?" – one can just deem,

Approaching Paradise with no bounds!

 

 

 

XXIX

 

 

He stole from other sacred dreams and sweet smiles,

And even took their wings to fly like kites,

And he no longer knows any fears, any shames:

Blatantly stealing others’ colors, tones, and shades,

The thief floats the boat of souls with others' glides,

With stolen tones, he colors his own grayish days!

 

 

 

XXX

 

Our generation does not spot any honest deeds,

And winds blew away our myths and flourished dreams.

And when the depravity reaches its uttermost,

I stay indoors with entries closed and blinds shot.

When thoughts are mixed with our lifelong creeds,

My soul breaks down and swamps me with a pain lot.

 

 

 

XXXI

 

The wind is raging, and the mountain is just him

It will not move, because not a hair has fallen out of it.

The sky deceives us with rain; is it a gift?

Like the guy who pulls out a kiss.

The night will come: one circle will be erased,

And the mountain will stand like a giant hole!

 

 

 

 

XXXII

 

Surprising again the day unusual confusion,

And time flies, and you - like a bird!

They will not understand where that border is desired,

Where the beloved's fantasy has attracted more than once,

How light and shadows attract the painter.

And the outlines of gradations from yesterday doran.

 

 

 

XXXIII

 

It's time to leave… forget about everything, you are free.

She walked away from me, sobbing or laughing wildly.

You doomed yourself to loneliness.

And the colors of the apple tree with you, my hand will wipe.

Although patience is my heart's edge,

Think I left myself. Poor thing!!

 

 

XXXIV

 

Sad! On earth money rules the soul,

Laws and iniquities are cunning everywhere.

Who has money - also has supporters,

However, when there is no money in the treasury,

Everything will disappear in an instant - wealth, glory,

friends, And the wind of despair howls in the air.

 

 

 

XXXV

 

If love decides everything soon,

How beautiful everything would be around us.

But in the mask of love hatred will come:

Destroys, shatters everything, tears the feathers of lovers!

The ugliness of the mind mourns:

Silent Love, like a mannequin in a shop window!

 

 

 

 

XXXVI

 

You look around and see a candle instead of a dawn.

And you search in vain in the calendar of a day.

And is it such a sign? Everything passes by the way…

Those who sang before listen to others now!

Since aging lungs do not have enough air:

The voices of the louder ones drown out the voices of the older ones!

 

 

XXXVII

 

When hatred rained down on the earth,

The surface overthrew the Devil from the heavenly apogee…

And from the sin, everything caught fire!

And the Devil here and there… Let's fight and destroy the Devil!

We are winners only when God helps us!

May God enter the heart and goodness surround the forest!

 

 

 

XXXVIII

 

It all started well! It continues, I believe!

Let the crash like the beast pass us by!

Worthlessness, you will not find support from us!

Only because of poverty - the lessons of ugliness - only!

But we are destined: to keep up with Life,

And happiness ripe fruit ripen from the branch.

 

 

 

XXXIX

 

I chose the road, you have to overcome it to the end.

You lost and fell - get down, and move again.

In your thoughts about her, that one, overcome all obstacles!

There is no turning back now or ever!

The enemy wore a mask, I fight without a mask!

Perhaps victory is near, like the Mother of God on the icon.

 

 

 

XL

 

In sorrow I saw the eternal beauty,

Its perfection and uniqueness are the essence.

The grace of loneliness was exposed by grief

And the wisdom of life that nurtured the wings.

I heard echoes of unusual conversations,

What grew into silence, which has a miracle of power!

 

 

XLI

 

Our life is a road paved with cobblestones,

Where dreams and thoughts mixed with swamp mud.

We are enveloped in the darkness of sleepless nights.

On the steep slopes it is breathtaking, the eyes are cloudy.

But beauty! Oh, immortal beauty

He calls us to the top with his creative rays

 

 

 

XLII

 

Don't be surprised by anything! You are made of God's clay!

We had to go through less than such hours!

In the thickets of temptation we pave our ways:

Ash - around, decay and all sorts of worries…

You say, "Nature doesn't like mistakes!"

Our guide is the Prophet! Fallen - let's get up to the foot!

 

 

 

XLIII

 

Born rich, you have one concern:

How to spend a fortune to have both chic and pleasure.

And as if not for you - all the troubles and sorrows,

And not for your mind - all the mistakes, of course!

And the poor man looks and thinks: "Dude,

I will find the end of your troubles like guilt in a spell. "

 

 

 

XLIV

 

Everything where the Word reigns begins there.

It all ends where the Word is based.

Here is a hot summer made of my words.

From my words ripened my garden, where the plums are juicy

And the desert will blossom and turn into an oasis,

By my winged Word, not thrown to the wind.

 

 

XLV

 

True feelings are not for empty words.

There is a danger: the feeling will cover the moss or mat.

Already maimed are taken out of the battlefield,

They persuade the sun: "Heal us by yourself!"

The villain says, "I'm not afraid of hell."

The robbers keep the guards at hand!

 

 

 

 

XLVI

 

When you smile, they look like a flower,

Others may surprise everyone.

We pompously flip through the strangers of labor:

We want to know who suffered and fought.

And under the veil we look like the doomed,

Which was terribly close to the gallows.

 

 

 

 

 

XLVII

 

Long live the king with the certificate of a madman!

Otherwise, whoever believes will agree and swear,

Like Poetry - madness in the wind!

However, conversations should be left as a dash.

When the seeker of the throne loses his mind,

He flies to the abyss with a piece of stone!

 

 

 

XLVI

 

The wind blows in the garden of hearts, as in the square.

Clouds in the sky - crazy and disturbing,

And don't you understand who should draw the line here?

And who will bring their own wrath on the Universe?

This is not the first time threatened from above!

We do not know when souls go to God!

 

 

 

XL

 

Dreams spent the night outside yesterday,

I barely managed to warm their eyelashes.

Someone was crying and moaning at the gate.

That was the past. I greeted him.

With the rays of the first luminaries

The dark trail of the guest disappeared inaudibly.

 

 

L

 

He is still a young man. And praise rejoices.

The accompanying wind is his hopes.

Only at the end of life

He will understand vanity… And thank God!

Understand the futility of aspirations, and efforts - too!

Because - a victim of low competition for someone!

 

 

 

LI

 

And there is no way out, and a sense of sorrow

They will live in my heart until then

The hard days will not go out for good.

around all the unhappy, frail, sick,

And where to find, where to find the world,

Who does not perish, does not sink in the se

 

 

 

LII

 

"Oh, Death, take it!" He begged on his deathbed.

He left no descendants and did not multiply the treasure.

In eternal struggle the body is extremely exhausted,

I no longer wanted to stay on earth.

Completed the lie of the poor man,

Having helped the costume to complete the work!

 

 

 

LII

 

I'm running away, it doesn't make sense to stop

Autumn breaks the threads on the body,

The celestial power will not save,

Which slowly extinguished the beam.

Hot sweat comes from his forehead,

And I see: the night, like a bird, sat in the nest.

 

 

 

LIV

 

People cover the distance - liars lie.

Is it true that someone is carrying nonsense there?

The mixture of gossip already gives me a headache:

All the words of gossipers are glued together by lies!

And the Truth is like a sorrowful widow

It stands in the darkness, and above it is a rain cloud!

 

 

 

 

 

LV

 

A bullet flew in ?? Father and Nenets cry…

She called: "I will be cold in an innocent heart."

A fire goes out on the high tower,

Instead of fierce flirtations - sorrow, confusion -

We are not immortal and will not rise from the ashes

And to the sky the mighty oak in a green dress

 

 

 

LVI

 

The moon was a sign of night engagement.

And I stood under him, as if frightened, in place.

I did not know where I would be sent, and why?

And he weighed what he heard, comforting and bad news.

And wiped silently greedy tears,

And somewhere unharvested rye rustled on the bypass!

 

 

 

LVII

 

Your dream will continue somewhere, there… And soon

Everything I've seen so far will be erased properly on the sidewalk.

And while she's on the doorstep,

Words pierce the heart with thorns, still weak.

You are waiting for a terrible death on a hurricane night,

And eternity fills the Abyss like autumn leaves!

 

 

 

 

LVI

 

The unspoken word is more important than eloquence.

Eloquence leaves silence in the blind.

So do not heed the vain things,

Take the real word as advice.

No one will hide an empty word in memory!

The floor was twisted - there was a word left on the paper!

 

 

 

LIX

 

The resentment will disappear - distrust will remain angry,

Until the end, until the lips are silent.

The highest art is the ability to forgive.

High robes of friendship sparkle!

And peace will be found only by the one who managed,

Like a tamer - a lion, anger to stifle

 

 

 

LX

 

Everything you wished for others will come back to you.

You don't care about strangers - you care about yourself.

Do not hide your anger in your heart - it will become a boomerang:

You don't expect harm to yourself, but suddenly your heart withers.

Oh, how much room there is for good,

It would only be a burning desire!

 

 

 

LXI

 

Our future is a clear step,

In order not to stray from the rhythm by accident.

Is the radiance deceptive and empty:

It was as if thunder was thundering and the sound of rain was growing. 

And we believed: everything will be on the ointment,

The Almighty covered us with a wing here!

 

 

 

 

LII

 

Be born rich, luxuries oppress you,

You don't see someone licking a bowl out of hunger.

You do not know sorrow, feelings of fatigue are crushed,

Waiting for better days, and everywhere refusals are polite.

And only when you cross your arms over your chest,

Others will see the riches of your worthlessness.

 

 

 

 

LIII

 

Wonder what kind of crowd? What kind of gulvis?

What are ready to climb through the eye of the needle:

Sell theirs in a row and - strangers,

If only they could get good for their own wife!

The crowd does not know: he sees everything from the sky.

Do not deceive him as a group or alone!

 

 

 

 

LXIV

 

What a beauty around, a riot of colors around,

The air is ringing, the birds can hear the solo.

Waiting for glasses, how to put flowers in them,

The fog cleared, silvery and fragile.

From ancient fairy tales the day is born,

As from the sea of feelings - the charm of Aphrodite.

 

 

LXV

 

Your companions are sorrow, grief and joy.

And the sword and the song are the envy of the enemy.

Whistling arrows soaked in drone…

Life is a battle, there is no place for silence.

But never pay attention to wounds, T

his is how a work entrusted to the Fatherland is composed!

 

 

 

LI

 

Tortured already night: changes masks again…

A silver morning will come out like a fairy tale.

How do people still tolerate the existence of curiosities?

Is the future preparing only tears for people?

And the wind shall howl in the branches of the trees of the centuries,

And on the ruins of the Tower of Babel will goats graze?

 

 

 

 

LII

 

Talentlessness comes first, when not asked.

Acquaintance is capable of everything, this is how it has become.

Because of this and genius, the gift loses its language.

Irony weaves on the genius of the conspiracy network.

This is how deceptive stories are created, and it's a pity

That no one will shout: "It is impossible! Oh, what are you? ”

 

 

 

LIII

 

It's as if someone will slip in fake money!

Some evil people are scurrying here and there.

And where is the truth, it is difficult to understand.

Waiting for the promised… Here with a puff.

And the grass rustles with heavy oblivion,

Which bevel obliquely is a difficult task!

 

 

 

LXIX

 

He could not live only in the present,

He looked into the future - and there are only dark thickets.

He was terrified, for the thorns would hurt him,

And he understood: in order to see the unknown,

There are not enough eyes, for this you also need souls

Enlightenment! and heart comprehensiveness - perfect!

 

 

LXX

 

All my life, Imana said, "I would create a mask,

I no longer believed in justification, I did not give up luck

And I would appeal to thousands,

To bring feelings to me and brilliance

I had a face, - I walked in such people for a long time,

As long as the backs themselves do not turn me on.

 

 

 

LXXI

 

Hospitable, door opener for passengers,

We, the candlesticks for the souls of our ancestors,

What is the anthem of love with dancing "Georgian",

We defended seven generations without bloodshed,

We built a fortress-tower with a prayer and these temples,

Kneeling knees that are heard daily.

 

 

 

 

LXXII

 

Our generation with the usual generosity for him,

With strong intent and strength even in a smile,

Many sinned, but the habit remained,

As he had a decent, so behaves,

Also with a lot of dignity or viciousness,

Distinguished by beauty or cruelty.

 

 

LXXIII

 

How many times will the wayfarer escape you,

In front of him when the problems subside again,

Deep down he is ready to divorce everyone

From this game, to trace it,

Meets the end, it turns out it also belongs to,

Eternal in this crazy world game.

 

 

 

LXXIV

 

Inevitable pains, daumas,

And wounds, still open, unseen,

Do not forget that we live in this country once

And with that smile, Magg, please don't beg me again,

You see, with this essence, yellow your eyes,

You are ready to make him smile too.

 

 

 

 

LXXV

 

This humanism, by birth is still barren,

A good deed of goodness here, I know you are going to

You have unexpected surprises with sharp eyes,

So that the details of the next story do not escape you,

I will give you many times, I know cigarettes,

Humanistic, these are immortal ideals.

 

 

LXXVI

 

The pedagogy is brilliant, you know, suffering,

Will either make you angry, or make you fall, what time will you visit,

He judged all of them, judged them,

The darkness where it left off was no longer lit,

He cursed their fate, sat down to write,

Even for himself, he could not be lucky with anything.

 

 

 

LXXVII

 

 

The word surprises, makes you laugh or turns you on,

They understand it as we humans do.

They also have souls, they meet with a smile,

They go deep into the soul, they groan,

They renew, and heal the wounds,

On the way they tell funny and satirical stories.

 

 

 

 

LXXVIII

 

In man I was looking for man again

And I could not find it, to go early in the morning,

More precisely, he would have died in it,

Let the harlot remain in her place;

I planted a rose called the dead,

I immediately divorced the prostitute, I said, - what was that ...

 

 

 

LXXIX

 

Great poetry, the highest form of thought,

It's like a masterpiece of all eras,

This tradition is not translated as a classic,

To convey understanding to the chosen ones,

It does not sleep for centuries and so it crawls,

The immortal Constitution of our soul.

 

 

 

 

LXXX

 

I made a vow with my eyes not to look

Ugly and passionate good feet for him,

Whatever friendship we swore, it became plain,

The body was no longer attracted, but the soul was holding,

With the friendship, with the thoughts that touch me,

That would haunt me and never end.

 

 

 

LXXXI

 

Hardship never knows the laws,

Unbearable burn when the load,

Who knows where you will not run away with a beheading,

What do you not do with fear, hunger, sorrow,

The impudent Misa will turn you into a coat of evasion,

Forget who you were and now you are.

 

 

 

LXXXII

 

How hatred can never justify itself,

The truffle can not move into the past,

Blue eyes, weeping all night,

Leaning in front of and behind someone else's window,

To the addressee, believe, prayer will reach one at a time,

On such a long road for so long.

 

 

 

 

LXXXIII

 

The wounds that the past has inflicted on,

I left to time for a cure, they are not gone,

When I think of destiny that thrills with badness,

Tears hurt, itching to the point of madness,

I did a lot of things that I didn’t want.

And that's why I keep on going with my soreness.

 

 

 

 

LXXXIV

 

Why do you think - love does not cry at all?!

He rushes through like floods that crush walls,

If it flees today, the night will come and it's back,

I'm alone, and you know my soul can crack,

And you can hear my heart beating like bells toll,

With simple sorrow that got refined in its round track.

 

 

 

LXXXV

 

I said: I cannot stand all this, it’s madness,

The only think hope for is Lord’s goodness,

Sometimes I spent all my constant wishes though,

Escape to nowhere, still remain in life's flow.

I try to never fall in suicide blindness

Keep on living my destiny and keep my vow.

 

 

 

LXXXVI

 

You watched this sorrow like you watch a comedy,

And your heart aches there is no hope, no remedy

Still try to hope - all is fine, and cheer up

In not, no matter, you can still give up,

And as they hate you, they will fight like the enemy,

And you mock on everything that clears up.

 

 

 

 

 

LXXXVII

 

 

I seek for sunshine in all men’s souls, all my life

And with those minutes my memories are still so rife,

And with that sunshine all the darkness is defeated,

As kindness helps us - wickedness will be completed.

And now with evil, for lifelong, we are in strife

And reach another side with souls so warmed, so heate.

 

LXXXVIII

 

 

You stare on pretty women walking down the street,

As after drinking you have a red face and pinky cheeks,

Women keep those flirting moments in their minds

And you recall your youth with more delights

And feel so sad of those moments mixed in reeks,

And tread on the ground walking drunk in streets, in lines.

 

 

LXXXIX

 

He said: No laws were written for all women,

And moreover, no plans were written,

If so, you have to know - has he ever read it?

Or will he read it in the future? - keep it on credit,

Even if he reads - he never gets the point hidden

You’ll wait for an answer – though you’ll never get it.

 

 

CX

 

The whole property was spent in single coins,

After so much troubles I wonder how my mind still adjoins,

I know that once, all these thoughts will be banished,

I do not care about the past as the future can be vanished

Scenes displayed in front of you having no points,

When dreams slip away, your smiles are also blemished.

 

 

 

 

CXI

 

Keeping eyes on it follows you and step by step,

It tries to push you into the corner, into the trap!

As uncontrolled emotions debts are now just paid,

You may hurt others when your plans are all but laid,

You can't stand up, your dreams are just into the gap,

Having no choice - yield to death! There is no aid.

 

 

 

CXII

 

When he mastered the instinct of survival,

While living his life so hard yet still so rival,

With the victory he steps by step still keeps on forward,

And he is watched from distance by lots of cowards

The sun, then moon keep our lives fresh, revival,

He’s still so wolfy with wild eyes watching from backward.

 

 

 

CXIII

 

Carelessness knocked on their early years,

Although now he might have many cares,

His heavy thoughts are no more moving further onward,

Though he keeps on walking in the gardens, in the orchards,

When realized, at last, what he could bear

He turned to be a kid so kind, yet still so awkward.

 

 

 

CXIV

 

Although the symptom may still have remission,

Still not clear, who will take our mission?

Killingeach other– still survived in the ward!

Though we still wait for hope, for reward!

High temperatures points on our badcondition,

No one can find solution, say just a word.

 

 

CXV

 

Your conversations made me burn in hell,

And still remain in the dark where I fell,

I feel exhausted with the set of thoughts,

And my eyes shed so many tears into burst,

I feel as if my hands are bond, being in the cell,

And my throat hurts, because of prolonged thirst.

 

 

 

CXVI

 

Reassessment is a way of doing a lot of things,

This is life with its deliberate growings,

Not accustomed to understanding all that so soon,

Those who consider freedom to have immune,

Some seem to take cognizance changings,

Some have to amend ideas, thoughts, and tunes.

 

 

CXVII

 

He sincerity of a helpless man is questioned though;

He believes in anything for rescue, whatever so,

And you still keep on fooling all the nonsense,

I'm still surprised - why do you play, does it make sense?

After all, problems have the charter of their own,

Who knows – some will cherish him, some - draw offense

 

 

 

CXVII

 

You believe in turbulent rhymes willing to fly,

In startling colors and bright tones of sunny sky,

And one can see together coming - day and night,

Though flatterers lazed on the ground, all all in spite,

Like amphibians left without water as if to die,

Hard-hearted passed away with smiles, despite.

 

 

CXVIII

 

You believe in turbulent rhymes willing to fly,

In startling colors and bright tones of sunny sky,

And one can see together coming - day and night,

Though flatterers lazed on the ground, all all in spite,

Like amphibians left without water as if to die,

Hard-hearted passed away with smiles, despite.

 

 

 

CXIX

 

Since pretty women are to be kissed every morning,

Their laughter, their giggling takes away all mourning,

Attractive lips are charming with their smiles,

And you are flirting from the distance over miles,

And from that fondness gentle tears are aborning,

And those stories transformed in fairy tale styles

 

 

C

 

Thinking every day — as if you gather wealth,

(Though to recall all, having no more strength),

Andalways looking for the ways as he supposed -

Sometimes the doors are open, and sometimes closed,

And as he knows the life ends up with death,

He leaves those useless trifles untouched and unopposed.

 

 

Poems

 

 

 

Gia Jichonaia - Georgian poet, author of numerous books (sonnets, rubayats, short stories, novels, verse in prose, novels). He created a new form of verse, which he called the Colchis Kirbies, and found a great response abroad. Colchis Kirbies were translated into English, Italian, Russian, French and other languages. The book of Colchis Kirbies published in Ukrainian in Kiev was awarded the Davit Guramishvili International Prize in 2018.

This collection includes poems of philosophical-meditative content, by Georgian poet Gia Jichonaia, which he called Kirbies. In his small preface, the author explains where this original name comes from.

By the authors

 

In 1896, in Greece, on the island of Crete, Sir Arthur Evans discovered the Phaestos Disc, which was deciphered in Colchian and printed with a gold mold. The Phaestos Disc is recognized as the world's first printed document. It was called the first book in the world (John Chadwick), for example, it mentions the cities of Crete - Kutaia, Phiti, which is equated to Kutaisi and Poti. This first printed document is two thousand and five hundred years prior to Gutenberg's book.

Apollo of Rhodes and ancient authors confirmed that before the arrival of the Greeks, Kartvelian tribes, Pelasgians, lived in mainland Greece. They inhabited Crete in particular, and that the Peloponnesian Peninsula was called Pelasgia, while the largest island of Euboea was formerly called Makris (Margon, Margalon), and the whole of eastern Crete is still called Lasithi.According to Strabo, the local priests and Coribants were Colchians. These were the priests who created the script. Greek sources refer to it as golden writing or writing in gold.

We also know about the Argonauts' journey to Colchis before the Trojan War, which aimed at obtaining Golden Fleece. (Kirib's leather-Colch, the same as Kirbi, Kvirbi, and Kiribi), on which the rule of gold mining was written. After all, the story of the Argonauts has become a kind of muse of ancient writing, there were no field of art left in that era where this story was not presented totally or partially.

According to Apollonius of Rhodes (3rd century BC), "the Colchians have preserved the ancient patriarchal altars, the pillars, and on those altars are shown the ways of all seas and lands." According to the German scholar Karl Ritter, "these plates were the original maps, and perhaps Herodotus had them when he listed the trade routes of the northern peoples, the Bosphorus and the Pontus." In his opinion - "The honor of cartographic art does not belong to the Greeks of Asia Minor at all. These plates were used by Colchian travelers and merchants much earlier." The above shows that the ancestors of Georgians possessed not only the developed maritime knowledge of their time, but also were advanced in writing.

As for the Kirbies, Apollonius of Rhodes (3rd century BC) writes in the “Argonauts”: The Colchians have preserved the Kirbies written by their ancestors, on which travelers are shown all the ways and borders of the sea and the lands. According to some ancient travelers, the Kirbies are three-dimensional boards on columns made of masonry. According to them, the Colchians are one of the first founders of world cartography and, to some extent, geography and seafaring. And my Kirbies are also a kind of response to these above-mentioned Kirbies.

 

I

The history of each country is kept as the muse aims,

Those heroisms are not only preserved at museums,

Having the shelter they glow but never stay in the lull,

And hearts rejoice since they keep shining and are never dull.

Yet you enjoy them sang like lively tunes by folks in lanes,

As they break the silence - bring us much delight and fun.

 

 

II

 

The first of the writings, called Kirbi, you ever can hear,

Hence even the scholars have left their unclosed door here,

It was entered through by both Asians and Europeans,

Met by Colchis with their usual modest appearance,

The secret curtains were opened by hosts with no fear -

Mankind just needs some time to get it to the clearance.

 

 

IIII

 

Whoever feels the wonders of the magic sense?

And reason for the mystery of the universe,

We’ll never get the truth - if it exists at all,

No matter, while studying the past, how deep we fall,

And Mother Nature, by all means, will keep the silence,

And keep the words from us unuttered and untold.

 

 

IV

 

If one can get the exact sense of uttered words,

Will escape being immersed in the dirts,

And will skip rashly that misleading page,

Leaving verses for mankind that will never fade...

Will keep precisely friendship ties and bonds,

One who swims wisely in the sea of words!

 

 

V

 

Our novel lives pass by on their stripes.

And the novel is the best among genre types.

The more we take life tests with our wits -

The shorter it turns up within its width.

And you still long for living joyful lives,

However you just witness that it quits!

 

 

 

VI

 

For the poet, here it is - a take-off field!

Where the world’s all mysteries are not revealed,

As it hides its charms in the bizarre vest -

At times tis strict, at times gags in its own jest,

And realizing tis not the place you believed

You try to find the role that suits you best.

 

 

 

VII

 

No one knows about Kirbies amongst noble bards,

Alike Ephuthi1 , fade away with no regards,

And lost those rhymes from pages of the book of fate .

Knights were trapped by Tkashmapha’s2 singing bait

While in the forest where Apollonius used to rest,

When Tkashkhochi3 kissed with passion mistress’ breast.

 

 

 

______________________________

1 Ephuthi – the book of fate

2 Tkashmapha – Mengrelian version of Dali – the godess of hunting,

the queen of forests in Georgian mythology

3Tkashkochi –Deity of hunting in Georgian mytholog

 

 

 

VIII

 

Tis nonsense to say everything – and you keep the silence,

And never mix with babbler mean alliance,

And you get angry as you see their filth and fake,

You wonder: “Why on earth, why for God’s sake?!

The more you hone, the purer gets your soul,

And never follow them to the dirty hole.

 

 

 

 

IX

 

And still, men fight so desperately with the pain -

Through sleepless nights, wait for dawns but in vain.

And those twilight sorrows having no more worth,

Form night thought that flutter like a dying moth.

Though Lord has given us at least strength to sustain,

And all delays are moved on from that day forth.

 

 

 

 

X

 

Unusual winds were not blowing either that evening,

And one by one, like rats, everyone was fleeing,

And those who stayed there and walked their rounds,

Waited for unrevealed secrets knowing no bounds.

It even wants to get rid of this infinite tease,

(Though, winter comes to doors with no signs and sounds).

 

 

 

 

 

 

XI

 

All of a sudden the universe burst into the open door

To fill the emptiness with essence more and more!

And the man was smoking with no care and regret,

As if the universe hung on that fading "cigarette"

Twisting in his fingers on pupose to ignore -

The essence of the matter and further threat.

 

 

 

 

XII

 

Injustice will still make you cry so hard,

Yet tis pity, all that again will stab your heart.

Encountering unequal battles is not a shame!

And you will melt in sorrow like wax in flame,

When all currencies change, one still remains apart -

Thirty pieces of silver keep on its “fame”.

 

XIII

 

The distant pacesetter was flying up to the sky,

As his ideals were no longer fresh or high,

And those who kept their eyes on coming dawn -

There, on purpose, much more captives were drawn,

As the future was foreseen and judged on by -

They found prophets in their souls not yet withdrawn.

 

 

 

X?V

 

Hatred is a bad feeling, forget it darling,

Instead – just catch rays of the sun stunning.

While grief drags others shoulders - can bear it not,

Those who are chosen, as a usual, suffer lots,

Yes, they can swear that they are more aware of loving.

And on the way to truth can easily untie false knots.

 

 

 

XV

 

You close your eyes and fill the life with colors once again,

And try to find more tones for the sun to retain,

To make intensive its redness, yellowness, and hotness;

To make it more wonderful and keep on its fondness;

And go beyond the reality you don’t sustain

Once you wake up – those colors lose their boldness.

 

 

 

 

XV?

 

 

God is with us! Yet, demons also keep on eyes, though,

And sorrow in your heart keeps aching with its steady flow

Whoever comes, whatever comes it still will ache

Yet never say a word to demons – for heavens sake!

Keep your secrets in you heart and live your life so!

Lord will help you not to make fatal mistakes.

 

 

 

 

XV??

 

Sleepless nights stirred up my thoughts all, all, again…

I wish I knew the reason though -Who would explain?

The past and the present merged in nonsense altogether.

Yet my way lost all its colors, all its pleasure.

And my heart beats with full of sorrow, ache and pain,

Though I stick to my way with none of hope in life treasure.

 

 

 

XV???

 

He said, he would never obey the rules,

As for the actions, nature gives him all the tools.

Since art is all on earth the makes the dynamics,

And written works depict all gestures and mimics;

So therefore the act of poem takes its moves

And dogms have none of business with its lyrics.

 

 

 

X?X

 

She comes and looks at me with probing gaze,

Then grabs, and takes me to unknow place,

So rapidly so fast that I am shaken.

She keeps the silence, and all her feelings are forsaken;

And I myself lie on the ground and give her space,

However, as a rule, she'll be mistaken!

 

 

 

 

XX

 

And still, the cold winds blow my aching soul,

Nothing is to be expected better anymore,

And life becomes so gray - as pleasures lack,

No matter if they smile to me or stab my back.

So why it happens? Days clothe me with varied robes!

Who cares whats the color - red, or white or even black!

 

 

 

 

 

 

XX?

 

And the depth of our thoughts will wonder us,

And the days will keep on gray and thunderous,

While being busy with projecting our life plans,

We keep on living with other lines, with other ends,

Followed by sleepless nights and daydreams, thus,

What future arranges in life, we never guess.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

XX??

 

The time comes and even self can tire you,

You stop arguing as having no more strength to pursue.

Having no will to seek the shelter beyond one's arms.

And even self bores you more and gives your harms.

And, you get so gloomy and you feel so blue,

that believe on earth there are none of charms.

 

 

 

XX???

 

As a tree starts squeaking, it will not so soon fall down.

The whirling wind blows my anguished soul, all, all around,

And yet I pray and plead my fate for its compassion,

And for your smile to reign nearby with its obsession,

And the hope of seeing the face - to whom I am bound,

Keeps me with faith not to fall in a deep depression.

 

 

 

XX?V

 

Grammar is confused with punctuation marks,

And like traffic, controlled by lights, stops, goes, embarks.

The writer waves his words in rhymes like swords,

And the linguist gets rid mistakes of his works!

Though poetic negligence seems nice at times,

When science pedantry still follows its rhythmic words.

 

 

 

XXV

 

Life is only a goal, and a shower of thoughts,

Although the sun unreachably remotes,

It still warms our souls -its frozen spots,

And you keep on going as this feeling never stops,

As beauty is the only meaning life denotes,

The closer the goal - the less speed drops!

 

 

 

 

XXV?

 

As he is struggling with pain in wild cramps,

He looks like a madman with all his mime attempts,

A deadman color does not fade from his poor face,

And he even leaves in his heart some more space -

To whom he dreams, who still charms and tempts,

That’s followed by a cigarette smoking phase!

 

 

XXV??

 

Laughter burst brazenly into our souls,

After visiting one place, to others, in turn, it goes,

And strong souls suit so nicely small poor forms,

And great desires are braced with volition norms,

Some were afraid of their shame like death’s claws,

And others never worried about their deeds’ storms.

 

 

XXV???

 

Our life is nothing but a strange dream.

And cold days mixed with tears lack sunbeams.

And everything on earth lies in profounds.

Life plays the drums and makes us dance to its sounds!

"And what's behind the door?" – one can just deem,

Approaching Paradise with no bounds!

 

 

 

XX?X

 

 

He stole from other sacred dreams and sweet smiles,

And even took their wings to fly like kites,

And he no longer knows any fears, any shames:

Blatantly stealing others’ colors, tones, and shades,

The thief floats the boat of souls with others' glides,

With stolen tones, he colors his own grayish days!

 

 

 

XXX

 

Our generation does not spot any honest deeds,

And winds blew away our myths and flourished dreams.

And when the depravity reaches its uttermost,

I stay indoors with entries closed and blinds shot.

When thoughts are mixed with our lifelong creeds,

My soul breaks down and swamps me with a pain lot.

 

 

 

XXX?

 

The wind is raging, and the mountain is just him

It will not move, because not a hair has fallen out of it.

The sky deceives us with rain; is it a gift?

Like the guy who pulls out a kiss.

The night will come: one circle will be erased,

And the mountain will stand like a giant hole!

 

 

 

 

XXX??

 

Surprising again the day unusual confusion,

And time flies, and you - like a bird!

They will not understand where that border is desired,

Where the beloved's fantasy has attracted more than once,

How light and shadows attract the painter.

And the outlines of gradations from yesterday doran.

 

 

 

XXX???

 

It's time to leave… forget about everything, you are free.

She walked away from me, sobbing or laughing wildly.

You doomed yourself to loneliness.

And the colors of the apple tree with you, my hand will wipe.

Although patience is my heart's edge,

Think I left myself. Poor thing!!

 

 

XXX?V

 

Sad! On earth money rules the soul,

Laws and iniquities are cunning everywhere.

Who has money - also has supporters,

However, when there is no money in the treasury,

Everything will disappear in an instant - wealth, glory,

friends, And the wind of despair howls in the air.

 

 

 

XXXV

 

If love decides everything soon,

How beautiful everything would be around us.

But in the mask of love hatred will come:

Destroys, shatters everything, tears the feathers of lovers!

The ugliness of the mind mourns:

Silent Love, like a mannequin in a shop window!

 

 

 

 

XXXV?

 

You look around and see a candle instead of a dawn.

And you search in vain in the calendar of a day.

And is it such a sign? Everything passes by the way…

Those who sang before listen to others now!

Since aging lungs do not have enough air:

The voices of the louder ones drown out the voices of the older ones!

 

 

XXXV??

 

When hatred rained down on the earth,

The surface overthrew the Devil from the heavenly apogee…

And from the sin, everything caught fire!

And the Devil here and there… Let's fight and destroy the Devil!

We are winners only when God helps us!

May God enter the heart and goodness surround the forest!

 

 

 

XXXV???

 

It all started well! It continues, I believe!

Let the crash like the beast pass us by!

Worthlessness, you will not find support from us!

Only because of poverty - the lessons of ugliness - only!

But we are destined: to keep up with Life,

And happiness ripe fruit ripen from the branch.

 

 

 

XXX?X

 

I chose the road, you have to overcome it to the end.

You lost and fell - get down, and move again.

In your thoughts about her, that one, overcome all obstacles!

There is no turning back now or ever!

The enemy wore a mask, I fight without a mask!

Perhaps victory is near, like the Mother of God on the icon.

 

 

 

XL

 

In sorrow I saw the eternal beauty,

Its perfection and uniqueness are the essence.

The grace of loneliness was exposed by grief

And the wisdom of life that nurtured the wings.

I heard echoes of unusual conversations,

What grew into silence, which has a miracle of power!

 

 

XLI

 

Our life is a road paved with cobblestones,

Where dreams and thoughts mixed with swamp mud.

We are enveloped in the darkness of sleepless nights.

On the steep slopes it is breathtaking, the eyes are cloudy.

But beauty! Oh, immortal beauty

He calls us to the top with his creative rays

 

 

 

XLI?

 

Don't be surprised by anything! You are made of God's clay!

We had to go through less than such hours!

In the thickets of temptation we pave our ways:

Ash - around, decay and all sorts of worries…

You say, "Nature doesn't like mistakes!"

Our guide is the Prophet! Fallen - let's get up to the foot!

 

 

 

XLI??

 

Born rich, you have one concern:

How to spend a fortune to have both chic and pleasure.

And as if not for you - all the troubles and sorrows,

And not for your mind - all the mistakes, of course!

And the poor man looks and thinks: "Dude,

I will find the end of your troubles like guilt in a spell. "

 

 

 

XLIV

 

Everything where the Word reigns begins there.

It all ends where the Word is based.

Here is a hot summer made of my words.

From my words ripened my garden, where the plums are juicy

And the desert will blossom and turn into an oasis,

By my winged Word, not thrown to the wind.

 

 

XLV

 

True feelings are not for empty words.

There is a danger: the feeling will cover the moss or mat.

Already maimed are taken out of the battlefield,

They persuade the sun: "Heal us by yourself!"

The villain says, "I'm not afraid of hell."

The robbers keep the guards at hand!

 

 

 

 

XLV?

 

When you smile, they look like a flower,

Others may surprise everyone.

We pompously flip through the strangers of labor:

We want to know who suffered and fought.

And under the veil we look like the doomed,

Which was terribly close to the gallows.

 

 

 

 

 

XLV??

 

Long live the king with the certificate of a madman!

Otherwise, whoever believes will agree and swear,

Like Poetry - madness in the wind!

However, conversations should be left as a dash.

When the seeker of the throne loses his mind,

He flies to the abyss with a piece of stone!

 

 

 

XLV???

 

The wind blows in the garden of hearts, as in the square.

Clouds in the sky - crazy and disturbing,

And don't you understand who should draw the line here?

And who will bring their own wrath on the Universe?

This is not the first time threatened from above!

We do not know when souls go to God!

 

 

 

XL??

 

Dreams spent the night outside yesterday,

I barely managed to warm their eyelashes.

Someone was crying and moaning at the gate.

That was the past. I greeted him.

With the rays of the first luminaries

The dark trail of the guest disappeared inaudibly.

 

 

L

 

He is still a young man. And praise rejoices.

The accompanying wind is his hopes.

Only at the end of life

He will understand vanity… And thank God!

Understand the futility of aspirations, and efforts - too!

Because - a victim of low competition for someone!

 

 

 

L?

 

And there is no way out, and a sense of sorrow

They will live in my heart until then

The hard days will not go out for good.

around all the unhappy, frail, sick,

And where to find, where to find the world,

Who does not perish, does not sink in the se

 

 

 

L??

 

"Oh, Death, take it!" He begged on his deathbed.

He left no descendants and did not multiply the treasure.

In eternal struggle the body is extremely exhausted,

I no longer wanted to stay on earth.

Completed the lie of the poor man,

Having helped the costume to complete the work!

 

 

 

L???

 

I'm running away, it doesn't make sense to stop

Autumn breaks the threads on the body,

The celestial power will not save,

Which slowly extinguished the beam.

Hot sweat comes from his forehead,

And I see: the night, like a bird, sat in the nest.

 

 

 

L?V

 

People cover the distance - liars lie.

Is it true that someone is carrying nonsense there?

The mixture of gossip already gives me a headache:

All the words of gossipers are glued together by lies!

And the Truth is like a sorrowful widow

It stands in the darkness, and above it is a rain cloud!

 

 

 

 

 

 

LV

 

A bullet flew in ?? Father and Nenets cry…

She called: "I will be cold in an innocent heart."

A fire goes out on the high tower,

Instead of fierce flirtations - sorrow, confusion -

We are not immortal and will not rise from the ashes

And to the sky the mighty oak in a green dress

 

 

 

LV?

 

The moon was a sign of night engagement.

And I stood under him, as if frightened, in place.

I did not know where I would be sent, and why?

And he weighed what he heard, comforting and bad news.

And wiped silently greedy tears,

And somewhere unharvested rye rustled on the bypass!

 

 

 

 

LV??

 

Your dream will continue somewhere, there… And soon

Everything I've seen so far will be erased properly on the sidewalk.

And while she's on the doorstep,

Words pierce the heart with thorns, still weak.

You are waiting for a terrible death on a hurricane night,

And eternity fills the Abyss like autumn leaves!

 

 

 

 

LV???

 

The unspoken word is more important than eloquence.

Eloquence leaves silence in the blind.

So do not heed the vain things,

Take the real word as advice.

No one will hide an empty word in memory!

The floor was twisted - there was a word left on the paper!

 

 

 

L??

 

The resentment will disappear - distrust will remain angry,

Until the end, until the lips are silent.

The highest art is the ability to forgive.

High robes of friendship sparkle!

And peace will be found only by the one who managed,

Like a tamer - a lion, anger to stifle

 

 

 

L?

 

Everything you wished for others will come back to you.

You don't care about strangers - you care about yourself.

Do not hide your anger in your heart - it will become a boomerang:

You don't expect harm to yourself, but suddenly your heart withers.

Oh, how much room there is for good,

It would only be a burning desire!

 

 

 

L??

 

Our future is a clear step,

In order not to stray from the rhythm by accident.

Is the radiance deceptive and empty:

It was as if thunder was thundering and the sound of rain was growing. 

And we believed: everything will be on the ointment,

The Almighty covered us with a wing here!

 

 

 

 

L???

 

Be born rich, luxuries oppress you,

You don't see someone licking a bowl out of hunger.

You do not know sorrow, feelings of fatigue are crushed,

Waiting for better days, and everywhere refusals are polite.

And only when you cross your arms over your chest,

Others will see the riches of your worthlessness.

 

 

 

 

L????

 

Wonder what kind of crowd? What kind of gulvis?

What are ready to climb through the eye of the needle:

Sell theirs in a row and - strangers,

If only they could get good for their own wife!

The crowd does not know: he sees everything from the sky.

Do not deceive him as a group or alone!

 

 

 

 

 

 

L??V

 

What a beauty around, a riot of colors around,

The air is ringing, the birds can hear the solo.

Waiting for glasses, how to put flowers in them,

The fog cleared, silvery and fragile.

From ancient fairy tales the day is born,

As from the sea of feelings - the charm of Aphrodite.

 

 

L?V

 

Your companions are sorrow, grief and joy.

And the sword and the song are the envy of the enemy.

Whistling arrows soaked in drone…

Life is a battle, there is no place for silence.

But never pay attention to wounds, T

his is how a work entrusted to the Fatherland is composed!

 

 

 

 

 

L?V?

 

Tortured already night: changes masks again…

A silver morning will come out like a fairy tale.

How do people still tolerate the existence of curiosities?

Is the future preparing only tears for people?

And the wind shall howl in the branches of the trees of the centuries,

And on the ruins of the Tower of Babel will goats graze?

 

 

 

 

L?V??

 

Talentlessness comes first, when not asked.

Acquaintance is capable of everything, this is how it has become.

Because of this and genius, the gift loses its language.

Irony weaves on the genius of the conspiracy network.

This is how deceptive stories are created, and it's a pity

That no one will shout: "It is impossible! Oh, what are you? ”

 

 

 

L????

 

It's as if someone will slip in fake money!

Some evil people are scurrying here and there.

And where is the truth, it is difficult to understand.

Waiting for the promised… Here with a puff.

And the grass rustles with heavy oblivion,

Which bevel obliquely is a difficult task!

 

 

 

L???

 

He could not live only in the present,

He looked into the future - and there are only dark thickets.

He was terrified, for the thorns would hurt him,

And he understood: in order to see the unknown,

There are not enough eyes, for this you also need souls

Enlightenment! and heart comprehensiveness - perfect!

 

 

LXX

 

All my life, Imana said, "I would create a mask,

I no longer believed in justification, I did not give up luck

And I would appeal to thousands,

To bring feelings to me and brilliance

I had a face, - I walked in such people for a long time,

As long as the backs themselves do not turn me on.

 

 

 

LXXI

 

Hospitable, door opener for passengers,

We, the candlesticks for the souls of our ancestors,

What is the anthem of love with dancing "Georgian",

We defended seven generations without bloodshed,

We built a fortress-tower with a prayer and these temples,

Kneeling knees that are heard daily.

 

 

 

 

LXXII

 

Our generation with the usual generosity for him,

With strong intent and strength even in a smile,

Many sinned, but the habit remained,

As he had a decent, so behaves,

Also with a lot of dignity or viciousness,

Distinguished by beauty or cruelty.

 

 

LXXIII

 

How many times will the wayfarer escape you,

In front of him when the problems subside again,

Deep down he is ready to divorce everyone

From this game, to trace it,

Meets the end, it turns out it also belongs to,

Eternal in this crazy world game.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

LXXIV

 

Inevitable pains, daumas,

And wounds, still open, unseen,

Do not forget that we live in this country once

And with that smile, Magg, please don't beg me again,

You see, with this essence, yellow your eyes,

You are ready to make him smile too.

 

 

 

 

LXXV

 

This humanism, by birth is still barren,

A good deed of goodness here, I know you are going to

You have unexpected surprises with sharp eyes,

So that the details of the next story do not escape you,

I will give you many times, I know cigarettes,

Humanistic, these are immortal ideals.

 

 

LXXVI

 

The pedagogy is brilliant, you know, suffering,

Will either make you angry, or make you fall, what time will you visit,

He judged all of them, judged them,

The darkness where it left off was no longer lit,

He cursed their fate, sat down to write,

Even for himself, he could not be lucky with anything.

 

 

 

 

 

 

LXXVII

 

 

The word surprises, makes you laugh or turns you on,

They understand it as we humans do.

They also have souls, they meet with a smile,

They go deep into the soul, they groan,

They renew, and heal the wounds,

On the way they tell funny and satirical stories.

 

 

 

 

LXXVIII

 

In man I was looking for man again

And I could not find it, to go early in the morning,

More precisely, he would have died in it,

Let the harlot remain in her place;

I planted a rose called the dead,

I immediately divorced the prostitute, I said, - what was that ...

 

 

 

 

LXXIX

 

Great poetry, the highest form of thought,

It's like a masterpiece of all eras,

This tradition is not translated as a classic,

To convey understanding to the chosen ones,

It does not sleep for centuries and so it crawls,

The immortal Constitution of our soul.

 

 

 

 

LXXX

 

I made a vow with my eyes not to look

Ugly and passionate good feet for him,

Whatever friendship we swore, it became plain,

The body was no longer attracted, but the soul was holding,

With the friendship, with the thoughts that touch me,

That would haunt me and never end.

 

 

 

LXXXI

 

Hardship never knows the laws,

Unbearable burn when the load,

Who knows where you will not run away with a beheading,

What do you not do with fear, hunger, sorrow,

The impudent Misa will turn you into a coat of evasion,

Forget who you were and now you are.

 

 

 

LXXXII

 

How hatred can never justify itself,

The truffle can not move into the past,

Blue eyes, weeping all night,

Leaning in front of and behind someone else's window,

To the addressee, believe, prayer will reach one at a time,

On such a long road for so long.

 

 

 

 

LXXXIII

 

The wounds that the past has inflicted on,

I left to time for a cure, they are not gone,

When I think of destiny that thrills with badness,

Tears hurt, itching to the point of madness,

I did a lot of things that I didn’t want.

And that's why I keep on going with my soreness.

 

 

 

 

LXXXIV

 

Why do you think - love does not cry at all?!

He rushes through like floods that crush walls,

If it flees today, the night will come and it's back,

I'm alone, and you know my soul can crack,

And you can hear my heart beating like bells toll,

With simple sorrow that got refined in its round track.

 

 

 

LXXXV

 

I said: I cannot stand all this, it’s madness,

The only think hope for is Lord’s goodness,

Sometimes I spent all my constant wishes though,

Escape to nowhere, still remain in life's flow.

I try to never fall in suicide blindness

Keep on living my destiny and keep my vow.

 

 

 

LXXXVI

 

You watched this sorrow like you watch a comedy,

And your heart aches there is no hope, no remedy

Still try to hope - all is fine, and cheer up

In not, no matter, you can still give up,

And as they hate you, they will fight like the enemy,

And you mock on everything that clears up.

 

 

 

 

 

LXXXVII

 

 

I seek for sunshine in all men’s souls, all my life

And with those minutes my memories are still so rife,

And with that sunshine all the darkness is defeated,

As kindness helps us - wickedness will be completed.

And now with evil, for lifelong, we are in strife

And reach another side with souls so warmed, so heate.

 

LXXXVIII

 

 

You stare on pretty women walking down the street,

As after drinking you have a red face and pinky cheeks,

Women keep those flirting moments in their minds

And you recall your youth with more delights

And feel so sad of those moments mixed in reeks,

And tread on the ground walking drunk in streets, in lines.

 

 

LXXXIX

 

He said: No laws were written for all women,

And moreover, no plans were written,

If so, you have to know - has he ever read it?

Or will he read it in the future? - keep it on credit,

Even if he reads - he never gets the point hidden

You’ll wait for an answer – though you’ll never get it.

 

 

CX

 

The whole property was spent in single coins,

After so much troubles I wonder how my mind still adjoins,

I know that once, all these thoughts will be banished,

I do not care about the past as the future can be vanished

Scenes displayed in front of you having no points,

When dreams slip away, your smiles are also blemished.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CXI

 

Keeping eyes on it follows you and step by step,

It tries to push you into the corner, into the trap!

As uncontrolled emotions debts are now just paid,

You may hurt others when your plans are all but laid,

You can't stand up, your dreams are just into the gap,

Having no choice - yield to death! There is no aid.

 

 

 

 

 

CXII

 

When he mastered the instinct of survival,

While living his life so hard yet still so rival,

With the victory he steps by step still keeps on forward,

And he is watched from distance by lots of cowards

The sun, then moon keep our lives fresh, revival,

He’s still so wolfy with wild eyes watching from backward.

 

 

 

 

CXIII

 

Carelessness knocked on their early years,

Although now he might have many cares,

His heavy thoughts are no more moving further onward,

Though he keeps on walking in the gardens, in the orchards,

When realized, at last, what he could bear

He turned to be a kid so kind, yet still so awkward.

 

 

 

 

 

CXIV

 

Although the symptom may still have remission,

Still not clear, who will take our mission?

Killingeach other– still survived in the ward!

Though we still wait for hope, for reward!

High temperatures points on our badcondition,

No one can find solution, say just a word.

 

 

CXV

 

Your conversations made me burn in hell,

And still remain in the dark where I fell,

I feel exhausted with the set of thoughts,

And my eyes shed so many tears into burst,

I feel as if my hands are bond, being in the cell,

And my throat hurts, because of prolonged thirst.

 

 

 

CXVI

 

Reassessment is a way of doing a lot of things,

This is life with its deliberate growings,

Not accustomed to understanding all that so soon,

Those who consider freedom to have immune,

Some seem to take cognizance changings,

Some have to amend ideas, thoughts, and tunes.

 

 

CXVII

 

He sincerity of a helpless man is questioned though;

He believes in anything for rescue, whatever so,

And you still keep on fooling all the nonsense,

I'm still surprised - why do you play, does it make sense?

After all, problems have the charter of their own,

Who knows – some will cherish him, some - draw offense

 

 

 

CXVII

 

You believe in turbulent rhymes willing to fly,

In startling colors and bright tones of sunny sky,

And one can see together coming - day and night,

Though flatterers lazed on the ground, all all in spite,

Like amphibians left without water as if to die,

Hard-hearted passed away with smiles, despite.

 

 

CXVIII

 

You believe in turbulent rhymes willing to fly,

In startling colors and bright tones of sunny sky,

And one can see together coming - day and night,

Though flatterers lazed on the ground, all all in spite,

Like amphibians left without water as if to die,

Hard-hearted passed away with smiles, despite.

 

 

 

CXIX

 

Since pretty women are to be kissed every morning,

Their laughter, their giggling takes away all mourning,

??????????????? ???? ??????????? ?????? ????????,

? ?? ????????? ???????? ?? ????,

? ?? ???? ???????? ????????? ????? ??????,

? ??? ???????, ??????????????? ? ????? ??????

 

 

C

 

????? ?????? ???? - ??? ????? ????????? ?????????,

(???? ????????? ???, ?? ???? ??? ???),

? ?????? ???? ????, ??? ??????????? -

?????? ????? ???????, ? ?????? ???????,

? ??? ?? ?????, ????? ????????????? ???????,

?? ????????? ??? ??????????? ?????? ??????????? ? ?? ????????????.

 


Submitted: November 26, 2020

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