The wild passions fade away,
Years pass, our time flits.
We stubbornly wait for the future,
The future - having no share in the dreams.
The lust for life outweighs the grief,
The heavenly breath – the great woe,
The cherished moment flashes at last.
Life must flourish, flower and flow.
Men is mortal, all men must die.
We fail to master our passions…
We have to be trustful and sincere,
And welcome our alteration…
2.O5.2OO6.
Translated from Georgian
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A deeply moving piece with a lot of truth thank you