That man openly kept on begging,
Others’ thoughts he tried to seize,
He seized others’ sacred wishes, –
Resembling the dismayed dream…
He played, he trifled with them,
The wish blazed with red at length.
He fluttered into others’ dreams
Losing his vigor and strength.
And the poet’s soul, too,
The moneybox of fancies
Is smashed by someone in wrath,
And that someone fails to count
The loot – the poets wealth…
27.09.1979
Translated from Georgian
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well done. This poem speaks with a powerful voice.