Sometimes,
During autumn or winter,
From the town of Sighnaghi -
18th-century fortifications,
So called ‘City of Love',
It is already impossible not to look
Either to the vast Alazani Valley,
Or to panoramic view of
Caucasus snowy mountains...
Pastel houses of the town,
St. George and St. Stephen
Georgian Orthodox churches,
And narrow, cobbled streets,
Located on a steep foggy hill,
Like a port by the sea of
Scotch mists, standing over
The valley of the Alazani River...
Citizens and guests of this
One of smallest, lovely towns,
Will raise anchors of
Their daily lives and in pairs,
With their yachts of dreams,
Will swim in this scotch mists...
They'll go fishing
On their love dreams...
But they know in advance,
That the best love dream is
The dream that we'll never catch...
2020
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem