leqsebi

VIOLET ON THE MOUNTAIN
I likened it to my sister-spouse’s dress
My sheep were standing on Shirak’s crest,
The wind was blowing straight back at me,
A butterfly came from the land of the souls,
Its body bright with splashes of red.
It was heading north toward Pshavi,
I followed its flight with my eyes;
I would have watched it even longer
But the wind did not let me.
Its color reminded me of her dress,
My sister-spouse — O God, save me from this!
Go now, and bring her a message:
My sheep are doing well.
Day or night
Which is better, day or night?
People, I am asking you.
The night of course is very good
But day will outdo night in brightness.
It brings light to all the land;
When the sun climbs in the sky,
The cattle and the sheep spread out;
In mountains above and meadows below,
It dries up the morning dew,
In the cornfield the quail greets it.
But yet, if there would be no night,
May God save us from such a thing!
When the dark of night has come
A woman rejoices in her heart.
She longs to see her “brother-spouse,”
It would be hard to keep her away.
The lad as well, full of eagerness,
Cannot take time to eat his meal.
He goes and readies the bed for her,
Lays the sheets, fluffs up the straw.
Heart is working its magic on heart;
At the same time, he is thinking
“Could it be, she will not come,
Or that something has gone awry?”
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