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| На холмах
Грузии лежит ночная мгла; Шумит Арагва предо мною. Мне грустно и легко; печаль моя светла; Печаль моя полна тобою, Тобой, одной тобой... Унынья моего Ничто не мучит, не тревожит, И сердце вновь горит и любит - оттого, Что не любить оно не может. 1829 |
On hills of Georgia lies the
covering of night; Aragva streams in front of me. Such sadness and such ease; my melancholy's light, My melancholy's full of thee, Of thee, of only thee... No anxiousness, no pain Unsettles my despondency; My heart again on fire, it burns and loves again, For otherwise it cannot be. Translated by Genia Gurarie |
| On the hills of Georgia lies the
darkness of the night, Aragva murmurs underneath. I'm sad, yet light, my sorrow's bright, My sorrow's filled with you. With you, you only ... My melancholy, Nothing can torment or disturb, My heart, it burns and loves anew - because It cannot live without loving. Translated by Nick and Dimitri Derkatch |
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