Don't sing, my Beauty, that to me -
The songs of Georgia in sorrow:
Resemble they the other meet,
The other days, the other coast...
Alas! Resemble they to me
Your cruel melodies, and a steppe,
A night, a moon - and underneath
The features of a distant lady...
While seeing, I forget at all
This fatal shadow, though lovely,
But you're singing, and recall
Is in my mind again so lively.
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The other variants of translation:
http: //www.stihi.ru/2011/04/13/7660
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem