The Woman Of The Mountains (Bergine) Rasul Gamzatov Poem by Yuri Starostin

Woman of mountains(Bergine)
INTRODUCTION

Just a march, like a miracle,
A swifts brings on a little wings,
You go again at the grave of Mahmud,
Bergine, lay a flowers.

A heart was burning in his breast,
As a fire is in a bad weather.
Lovely, and gently and safely
He sang you, woman of a mountains.


He was not to you indifferent
He knew yours thought and dreams.
And call you by a red flower
And by a swallow – daughter of a spring.


So doesn't hear you earlier,
That anybody earlier him
Was talking with you in Dagestan?
Forever never happened!


He
Sang you to spite an mosque.
For it in the native side,
A khan's scourges lefts
The scars on his back.


And takes to the soldiers.
And hot
A shot was torn above him.
But he's in the Carpathians, avarka,
Could to you a tenderness to save.


Returned.
Once in the village
On the feast, a know call to them,
Like Hochbar, and a bullets
He could not avoid there.


Fell. And, covered by a blood,
A chorus is not gury he heard.
Bent to his headboard,
You are cried, woman of a mountains.


I remember in addition and another
A dashing yours share the singer is,
Whose the word born in the throes
Have compressed a heart to a pain.


To forget him you could not,
A guardian he was yours
And have castigated those who are in Gidatly
Brought a brides for a dowry.


He met near a firmament,
Knocking there in the other door,
A beaut-ine in the house of a cocksucker,
The pigeon in the nest of an owl.


Andinkas were not see a white light
For the white chohto.
And somehow it tears him,
Probably nobody knows.


And a mountains responded by an echo,
When it is at a dizzying cliffs
About the shooting red «Aurora»
He told you in a verses.


By the warmth of his caress an fume do
Your appearance has in the native height.
Where to each yours smile he
Was happy like a ploughman to a spring.


He wanted to a cradle
You would sing a song without a tears,
And lying on the hard bed
In the last hour he said:


«I farewell to a harsh life,
But remember, bergine, always:
Loved you a grey-beard
Old man was from the village of Tsada».


And I got in the inheritance
A verses, that its still alive,
I was wounded as many people from a childhood
By the fate of yours, woman of the mountains.


With a hope to me too, you
Sang, rocking my bassinet:
«I want to you grow a handsome
My little son. Bayu-Bayu».

An years do not elded a men
In an upland villages before the deadline,
But you have a few
From an weddings to the onset of a wrinkles.


I heard you are, happened,
To choose the eagle to the heart,
You answer by a refuse to someone
Who is to be love could not.

The cool groom do not shoot up,
Have not grasped the knife in an anguish.
Stealing, he would take you by a force:
Now, know, you doesn't leave.


And if you did not give in to a fate
Then you are jumped out from the cliff in Koisu.
And a white chest smash
On a dark rocks at the bottom.


Or, made a strong loop
From the maiden long braids,
You left the world immediately,
Died from own beauty.


Happened, bestowed upon a meeting
You smile to a guy,
And a gossip was about it in the evening
By the snake slowing to the light.


It is penetrated insidiously in your house
And furiously at a blind night
A dagger cold sting
A father keep over you.


Could not like a green grass
On the white ridges in a december,
A gentle words, converts to you,
To find in the avar dictionary.


I wrote where a robin
Sings in a silence beside the stream.
But go on, before you, bergine,
The debt still my song have.


I indebted to each tears;
And how many tears you shed!
I duty bound to yours beauty,
That is sweet to a man heart.


In debt to your hands, -
That saw in the mountains, who is not blind,
They turned and a stone
In the land, that is born a bread.


Oh, if I were a giant,
You believe me as your son and grandson,
Put to myself I'm on a back
Your hard chest of all yours troubles.


I sing to you by a heart in love.
And let yours meditative look,
To my happiness, an enlightened
Becoming, woman of the mountains!