When the shining moon Glides across the sky, Illuminating the horizon With its sparkling light; When the nightingale’s song Echoes softly through the air; When the flute’s tender note Reaches the mountain top; When the fugitive banished from home Is free to return to his wounded country, When the blinded cripple Is able again to see the moon and sun; Then I, abused, abandon my grief, And in my poor heart Reappears hope For a prosperous future; My soul seems happy, And the heart is tranquil, And yet, will this hope hold true That overfills me today? Soselo (Stalin) 22 September, 1895 _____ The rosebud flowered Entwining the violet. And Iris awoke Greening in the breeze The lark sang its tune High up in the clouds. And the nightingale joined In the jubilant song: May you prosper my beautiful country Land of Iberia, blossom and thrive! And you my studious and diligent Georgian Acquire the knowledge your fatherland needs! J J-shvilli 14. June 1895 _____ Our Ninika is old His bravery left him . . . How could old age Take his iron strength away? How often you could see him With swift vitality Swinging his sickle across the valley Using his vigorous skill. He piled mountain upon mountain Of the corn that he cut, Until his perspiring face Turned crimson! And now he cannot even move His old crippled legs. He lies and dreams a lot, Or tells his grandsons stories of his past . . . Sometimes when a song is heard From the nearby valleys, His brave heart Starts to beat stronger; He rises up despite his frailty, Leaning on his crutches And delightedly glances And smiles at the boy . . . Soselo (Stalin) July, 1895 _____ Move on tirelessly – Don’t let your head droop, Disperse the misty clouds, The rule of the Lord is great. Send your gentle smile to the land That spreads beneath your feet, Sing a lullaby to the icy peaks Suspended from the sky. Be sure that someday Even the deprived and humiliated Find the strength to climb Up the sacred mountain Supported by hope. Keep shining, beautiful one Among the clouds as long ago, Cast your delightful rays Through the blue firmament. And I too, will unbutton my collar Baring my breast to the moon, Reaching out my hands And singing a song of glory to the moonlight. Soselo (Stalin) October, 1895