“It’s so trying to live without you…
Love is such a painful thing,
That my life is wasted away, ”
This way the little birdie sings.
The wind has carried away her nest,
The torrent erased the pure streams,
Her food is covered with snow,
Heavy clouds hide the sunbeams.
The little birdie mourns over her love,
But expectation inspires her body.
The very expectation, and not hunger,
Has worn away the little birdie.
Translated from Georgian
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem