leqsebi

VIOLET ON THE MOUNTAIN
Those who saw them were amazed:
There are not roads enough to hold them.
They joined battle by Gumbri fortress,
The blood they spilled formed into lakes.
The smell of lead and powder rose,
Rifles gleamed with tongues of flame.
Sundered heads and feet came down
As though raindrops from the sky.
The wounded men are brought to town,
There, on the riverbank, lay the dead.
From the city they send the word:
Khevsurs, come, we need your help!
The sons of Khevsureti gathered.
They had much to talk about.
You, warrior, must go there too,
Where other men have made their names.
Some said: They will get a medal.
Others said: The Cross of Blood.
And some said: Those who give their lives
Will live on by word of mouth.
Oy Jgëræg [St. George], stand by us
Oy Jgëræg-ieha,
Sta-a-nd by-y us!
Ihaay ooy iha ohaay
Hay i stand by us,
Ihay i, o, ihaa o haa,
Ia oa iha iha io, Jgëræg,
Stand by us i o!
[Svanetian nonsense song]
Ak’alæ-æd, mak’alæ-æd,
Ekhsa, pekhsa, on the mountain-pass,
Rik’sa, pkhik’sa kondarasa,
Cha-amsæri bërdaluq’wi.
Lime on lime, want on want,
On want, on the cow in the stable.
The bear of Tsena’s tail-fat,
Tail-fat melted on the hearth,
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