I forgive 'the friends' lying in ambush,
Before they put their demands into words,
Before they pitch their camp in the field,
And sharpen their mortal swords.
Look at that creature playing a man,
He skillfully pitches his camp
In the field “of the brave and immortal”,
But the fate will tame him with the bridle,
And dig a grave for the false title…
Don’t cast pearls before swine any longer,
Don’t conceal your strength and passion,
And never show mercy to your enemy…
Such mercy robs your own nation!
23.09.2002
Translated from Georgian
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem