leqsebi

ia mtazeda
ses enterprises” [PC 203, 206]. Finally, in her discussion of “Violet on the mountain” and its
variants, Virsaladze offers the interpretation that — in the original form of the myth at least — the
father-in-law did not intentionally shoot the bridegroom. The guilty party is the goddess-protector of
wild beasts, who caused the father-in-law’s arrow to go astray and kill the young man, in revenge for
the buck the latter had just slain. In some variants the bereft bride washes the hunter’s body with
deer’s milk (egeb gavretskho irmis rdzitao), which is believed to be a means of counteracting Dali’s
power [GOM 174-180].
55. Perqhisa (“Round dance”). Source: PKh 62-63. Recited in 1925 by D. Gianashvili, in the Pshavian
village T’ushurebi. Variant in Ko 259-260. This poem and its accompanying dance are associated
with Lasharis jvari “Lashari’s Cross.” The name Lashari comes from the epithet for Tamar’s son
and successor Giorgi IV Lasha (1194-1223). In the religious system of the Georgian mountaineers
Lashari is the male counterpart of the deity which bears Tamar’s name (for an extensive discussion
of this topic see SR §8). Lashari’s shrine in the Pshav community of Qhmelgora is regarded as
especially powerful by the Georgian mountaineers. Unlike the other shrines, which pertain to
individual family groups, Lashari’s Cross presides over all of the twelve Pshavian clans. In
Charachidzé’s words “the sanctuary of Lashari, paired with that of Tamar nearby, is the political and
religious center of the entire Pshav territory” [SR 639]. Its major festival, called Lasharoba, not only
draws worshippers from all of the provinces of northeast Georgia, but even the nominally-Muslim
Kist’is will set aside their perpetual feuds with the Georgians in order to ask the protection of this
powerful deity [DGF I, 229]. The opening line attributes what follows to the mouth of “Lashari’s
Cross.” It may well be that this text originated in the words of a kadagi (oracle), who saw a
manifestation of Lashari in a vision. (Readers interested in Georgian oracular practice, reminiscent
of shamanism in some respects, will find a wealth of information in SR §2). There follows a
recounting of the tree-felling incident already discussed in the notes to poem #18 (“Speak, o fortress
ruins”). This version places particular emphasis on the vengeance exacted by the deity on a certain
Aptsiauri, who is said to have given away the secret of how to destroy the tree. Lashari “consumed”
the descendants of Aptsiauri, and the clan died out. (Some versions omit this section, and begin with
the lines “We gathered in God’s court”). In the second section of the poem, Dambadebuli, “the
Creator,” speaks. This personage is credited with the creation of the universe — land, seas, and sky
— and also is the progenitor of the deities known as the “offspring of God.” Among them we have
“three score and three St. Georges,” that is, sixty-three shrines of that name with their guardian
spirits. (Other mythological texts give the number as “three hundred three score and three,” so that
each day of the year a St. George is commemorated somewhere in Georgia). Tamar is also numbered
among the divine offspring. Some of the exploits recounted in poem #22 (“I was Tamar the Queen”)
are echoed here: placing boundary-markers in the sea, bringing the dry land under her rule. There is
a shrine dedicated to her (Tamar-Ghele) not far from Lashari’s Cross. In the final section Lashari’s
horse and army are mentioned. The term q’ma “vassal, serf, servant” here denotes the community —
specifically, its menfolk — who are said to be the “vassals” or “subjects” of their patron deity.
Pshavi itself is referred to as Lashari’s saq’mo, “fief.” Like a good feudal lord, Lashari will come to
the aid of a vassal who remains faithful to him .
56. Betgil (“Betgil”). Source: MP 95-97. Narrated by Tengiz Dadishkeliani in 1923 in the Upper Svan
village Becho. Transcribed by A. Shanidze. Variants in SbMat XXXI:4, pp 40-43; SvP 282-285, and
MP 209-227. The ballad of the Svan hunter variously known as Betkil, Betken, or Metki is in fact a
mythological poem, and it is sung while dancing the solemn round dance known as the samti
ch’ishkhæsh [GOM 113-14]. The text presents a number of problems, not only for the general reader
but for experts on Georgian folklore as well. Fortunately, in the first volume of his collection of
Georgian folk poetry Chikovani has published seven variants of the Betgil poem, and comparison
among them does much to clarify many obscure passages. I will walk the reader through the text,
and provide as succinctly as possible the information necessary to render the poem comprehensible.
Betgil (or Betkan) is one of several fabled Svan hunters who met an unhappy end in pursuit of his
livelihood (for a selection of poems on this theme, see MP 195-243). We have already encountered
Mepsay, who was killed by his own bullet after he refused to share the bed of the hunter-deity Dali
136