A Spiritual Bridge

By Mzia Kvirikashvili Lawrence

With this book, I wanted to give at least a glimmer of joy to my eternally tormented country, which for decades has been so preciously owed by the freedom gained through its blood. I wanted to introduce to the English-speaking world how a Georgian person thinks, primarily a Georgian poet, who are so numerous in Georgia.

And poetry, after all, it is a bridge between people’s hearts. Then, walk on this bridge and connect our desires, kind people!

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: May 6, 2021
• ISBN: 9781665584678

Mzia Kvirikashvili Lawrence

I was born and raised in a part of Georgia called Abkhazia. The collapse of the Soviet Union followed by a series of wars, after which Georgians expelled from their native lands, including Abkhazia. We have not been able to enter or even visit graves there for about three decades. The country’s destruction followed by the massive migration of people to save themselves and their families. The poems I have translated from Georgian into English include interesting material written on by poets of different ages and represent our feelings, emotional experiences, and joint pain. The connection between heaven and earth, morality, and love are also topics covered in the poems. It is not easy to translate the lyrics from Georgian into English because of its peculiar characteristic grammar structure. We tried to include the rhythm and harmony in the translation as much as possible. I graduated from Tbilisi State University with a Diploma of Honour. For many years, I worked at Iliauni university as an editor and then as a Lecturer. I arrived in the UK in 2001, and here I completed study courses with Cambridge University. I am married to Mr. Ronald Lawrence, the first proof-reader and supporter of my translations in this great work.

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© 2021 Mzia Kvirikashvili Lawrence. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 07/14/2021

ISBN: 978-1-6655-8466-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-8467-8 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or

links contained in this book may have changed since publication and

may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those

of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher,

and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

I

dedicate this book to the memory of my mother

Tatiana Bojgua, the woman who went through WW2

and returned home safely but she was brutally tortured

at the time of the Georgian Abkhazian

war and became its victim.

Contents

Introduction

Marie Abramishvili

I Am the Woman

Bela Alania

The Verse Cannot Be Obsolete

Baghater Arabuli

This Night Is also a Day

Only Just

Life

Etude

Sooner or Later, We Will Return to Matsmao

David Arakhamia

Drizzling

Heat Haze

What Can It Stop?

Appetite Tasted

The Shadow

Gets Twilight

I Must Sacrifice Enthralling

When I Wished to See My Heaven

It is a Vision

When It becomes Whole

Tengiz Avsajanishvili

Revolving Backwards

To Tariel Kharkhelauri

Confession

A Ballad of a Wolf

Nika Badzaghua

White Night

Follow that Day

Going

Four Seasons

To Poetry

Vorrida

To Terenti Graneli

Enemy of The Caucasus

Nikoloz Baratashvili

Earring

Maia (Mariam) Batiashvili

Mary Bitsadze

What Made Me Cry?

I Will Listen to This Song

To Mother

Vasili Bostashvili

To Rain

Last Night

I Love You

Sunrays

Grandfather’s Will

Rona Bubuteishvili

It Is Twilight

I Will Come

Give Me Hope

At the Locked Door

Temur Chalabashvili

Stream

Candle

Appreciated

From the Ice City Cycle

To Mirza

To My Son, Bejan

Madona Dvali (Dartsmelia)

Awakening

Warning

Dora

Kakha Dolidze

Orange Garden

Alexandre Elerdashvili

Promissory Oath

Dear Tbilisi

Spring of Imereti*

To Tamarella*

Medea Gadelia (Megi Molodini)

House of Souls

Mother

Do You Remember?

Hymn to My Mother

Two Ways

Diamond Sun

In Vain

Saint Mary

Cried the willow

I Will Live until Then

Arnold Gegechkori

Snow-White Camomile

Dandelion

Almond Branch

Belief

Colchian Suite

Mirza Gelovani

Please Do Not Write to Me

Vakhtang Ghlonti

Tamar Gabroshvili

Echo

Spring

Inga Gogiberidze

You, a Fereydan Georgian, Long to Kiss Georgian Land

In Batumi

Fighting Zeus

Makhvala Gonashvili

Virgin Mary’s Monologue

What Else Can I Do?

Transfiguration

The Stone Gate

In Your Kingdom

Revenge

Debt

Vakhtang Javakhadze

Great Story

Madona Javakhishvili

Let Us Return Love

Will Rain Again

What Did I Ask?

Somehow I Have to Get Over It.

I Will Be Back

Marie Jgenti

Was It a Life?

And What Is Your Wish?

To Mzia Lawrence

One Fine Day

It Is Dawn, and It Always Will Be!

Redberry on the Snow

To Maestro Kakha Dolidze for a Thanksgiving of His Beautiful Poems

Sculptured from Tourmaline

Message to the Earth from an Extinct Star

Widow

To Kaxa Dolidze

Eka Kajaia

Two Dates

(A New Poem)

Late

Winter Etude

Madonna Kalandia

Abkhazia, My Life, My Love

Deserted village except for the dead

You Are My Mother

Why Do I Want The Heart

Maia Kakhidze

In Missing

That’s Why I Write Poems

The Lord Is So Close Now

Old Grand Piano

Like a Woman’s Heart

Like a Kiss

New

I Could Not Love Anyone

Remains There Unwritten Books

I Would Tell You More, but Now I Cannot

Tariel Kharkhelauri

My Camomile

Thanks to Giorgi Gakharia

To Beqa

Giorgi Kekelidze

Rope

A Message to God and My Father

Natruli Kokaia

(Natalia Zghvispireli)

No, Sokhumi Did not Fall

My Shore

My Hut

To Mother

Mariam Kozmanishvili

Follow Your Way

To My Child

My Foggy Autumn

Mzia Kvirikashvili (Lawrence)

You Are My Home

The Bridge

To Heaven as He Is Love

Look out!

Teimuraz Lanchava

Experiment

Kutaisi

Tamazi Liparteliani

I Think I Probably Exist Outside Time

The House I Used to Live In

Maybe Someday

Grant Me One Night

The Source of Immortality: A Sonnet

Zaza Maghalashvili (Margus Da Cargus)

I Feel and Know

Winter April

Letter to Eve

You, Snow, and Night

Ioseb Macharashvili

To Sincere Poem Writers

Poetry Queen

Nanaia,* My Sunlight

Road

Pros and Cons

Poetical Hyperbole

Zeinab Metreveli

Tinatin Mgvdliashvili

Eagles in the Sky Blue

To George Gordon Byron

To George Byron

Lady Carolina Lemme: To the Earth

Open the Door!

Letter from Paris

Remember Me

They Say That I Am Mad

Amor Mio, Lord Byron

Sonnet to William Shakespeare

Nana Momtselidze

Silence Tires Me

I Do Not Know

The Right Word

My Heart Will Not Break

You Are My Heart

In the Mountains of Adjara

I’m Not Wrong Anymore

Love People

Irakli Nadareishvili

Could Not Unite

I Got Tired

Do not Mourn

Draw Me, Artist

Supreme of Own Self

Then Come Back

A Visit to Muse

Lia Naroushvili

To My Mother

Me and Me

Dream

Thanksgiving

Gocha Natenadze (Provincial Tenant)

Vaja Pshavela

I Trusted You, Bridge

Mtvarisa Pukhashvili-Kevlishvili

To My Mother

Whatever It Was, It Was

Oh, Melancholy Again

Somewhere in the Middle

Bela Qeburia

Verse of Feelings

Life or Parallel Emotions

Love

The Second of Run Wishing

It Was Raining Last Night

Nana Revazishvili (Nino Mariamishvili)

Role of the King

To Mariam

To Katie

Praying in Vain

Why Did You Turn Me Back?

I Rely on You

Why Are You Late?

Almond Tree

New Year’s Evening at the Sarpi Border

Regret

Erekle Saghliani

Kutaisi

Tamar Shaishmelashvili

Do Not Be Afraid

Bracelet

Because

Easter

My Star

Could Not Amaze

Khatuna Shavgulidze

Space for Meeting Souls

It Is Autumn

Man’s Tears

Emigrant’s Feeling

David Shemoqmedeli

Wait for Me

December

Roy Sokhumeli

Letter to Mother

Nino Spanderashvili

Calling of Roots

Leaf Fall

Hidden Suspicion

Pointless Racing

I Will Miss You

Badri Suladze

White Lilac

Paata Surmanidze (Poet Poetishvili)

The Last Snow (White Desert)

Colourful Leaves

Scorpios

On Facebook

Ioseb Stalin (Jughashvili)

Hope Revives

Morning

Archil Sulakauri

Different Beauty

Marie Tabagari

I, Spring

Galaction Tabidze

Night and I

Konstantine Tavartkiladze

Heart’s Verses

The Road

The Old Musician

Last Night

It Is Raining

Your Smile Remained to Me as a Muse

Do Not Let Violets Be Withered

Fragments from One April of My Childhood

Davit Tevdoradze

So Germinates a Flower in March

We Are Sinful

In My Father’s Estate

The Word Is Thrown Away

When the Rains Give Orders

Nikoloz Tchikaidze

Heart

Epoch and Man

Letter

Ilia Tchkadua (Vache Raindeli)

Flower of Light

Candle Drops

Unknown Woman

The Promised Melancholy, Exhilarating Impromptu

Infinite Second

There Is Hope

Lost Moon

Moon in the Window

Temur Tsertsvadze

Deal or No Deal

Whatever It Was It Was

You

Tempting Eve

Rendezvous with the Winds

Marina Tskhvediashvili

Poppy Candle

To Snowdrops

Index

Introduction

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I wanted to convey ordinary people’s feelings, emotional experiences, and joint pain while giving a little joy to people who have been sacrificing politicians’ interests in Georgia for the last 30 years.

It is too difficult to live in Georgia. As the collapse of The Soviet Union destroyed the old management system and creating a new system is exceedingly difficult.

We are waiting for a leader who will lead the Georgians and creates a government that will reach every its citizens’ heart, like in the West.

Well, Georgia is an ancient country, with its independent writing and three alphabets-scripts. The most wondrous things revealed in Georgia is the secret of the subconscious mystery of world creation that seems to lie in the Georgian Language, but it is still yet asleep. Need there a little more time for revealing of this mystery finally, and we are waiting for it.

The Georgians are romantic people, and it is a country of poem writers. Every third person here can express their feelings with poems.

I have tried extremely hard to make poems understandable to English-speaking reader. the reach to you the Georgians heart feelings.

Evaluation and judgment are for you, my reader.

I wish to thank for their help and moral support in issuing this book Mrs Makvala Gonashvilli, the head of the Creative Union of Georgian Writers. The members of this union— A poet-academician Mr Iosef Macharashvili; A doctor of Law_ Nana Revazishvili; A doctor of Philology Tamar Shaishmelashvili.

Thank you for the cover design – Nino Aptsiauri and Kakha Samushia.

And thanks to our best friend – Kendall Green —for his moral support and help.

Thanks to all the poem writers for their excellent work.

And thanks to the team of publishers – Author House – for their outstanding support and tolerance.

Marie%20Abramishvili.png

Marie Abramishvili

I Am the Woman

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You have met me now like a mirage,

I have looked for you nearly everywhere.

I am the woman you loved so much,

And I am here to answer your love.

I am exhausted, standing in front of you,

Gazing into the painfilled eyes of yours.

I am the woman you have looked for.

Tell me, please, am I late, or not?

Let me become dumb without words.

I am branded with the absence of yours.

I have here the heart, you loved so much.

You have never wanted another one.

You called for someone fled far from you,

But stormy whirlwinds muffled your sound.

You have been calling an alien maiden,

But no one heard it except me, the one.

I am here, now, warned, and exhausted,

Watching your eyes, and pains of yours.

I am the woman you have been looking for.

Tell it just to me, please; am I late or not?

Bela%20Alania%20(2).jpg

Bela Alania

The Verse Cannot Be Obsolete

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I am riding a horse in the high mountains,

And I feel the eternal youth of my soul.

I carry with me the warmth of the meeting

And the burden of distance that separates us.

I carry with me the softness of lilac,

The charm of roses, and violets’ awe.

In the pitch-dark night or in dim sunlight,

Here, near the sky, I will pray for you.

The rebellious thoughts, budding to bloom,

Enslaved me already more than death.

If emptiness captures and invades me,

Without the sun, can I find my way?

Ever passionate your sparkling eyes,

If it stops my heart to warm, or burn,

I am so afraid of such a moment,

One day if I do not want to meet with you.

How can I survive without you?

Only God knows how I will be?

I live for one second, filled by love,

And this one second holds my life.

***

I will darn the starry edge of the sky.

I will follow the clouds toward the sun,

Where mountains and sea wait for me,

Where there are flags of awaited dreams.

I will caress golden-coloured leaves,

Make them forget incoming winter,

Not allow them to mourn others’ death,

Nor separation accompanied by grief.

I write names on the foggy glass.

I draw tearful eyes on them, then

I will help, with the star ladder,

The coming moon to descend.

Then a rooster will crow somewhere,

And the silver dawn appears there.

Tired of daydreams, I will fall asleep.

I will meet you somewhere in night dreams.

***

It has been snowing since the morning.

Time confused in counting of itself.

My heart is asking to be with you.

It feels unbearable, missing desire.

Seas divide us, the hills, and mountains.

No matter whether you are near or far,

I cannot forget you; you are in my thoughts.

I am trying to play a happy part.

It has been snowing from the morning.

1990.

***

No need between us a vow to say.

The eyes will reveal the truth anyway.

The butterflies flying inside my mind

Will expose thoughts I cannot hide.

I repeat your name, and Why? I wonder.

My thoughts as if trapped in a cage.

Only the wind, like you _ insane,

Can bear my feeling, can understand.

Where we met and when I do not remember!

I only know that I love you very much.

***

One day, at sunset, at dusk of life,

Our feeling fields will be scythed,

Will be filled with my sorrow about you,

And I cannot run from my solitude.

The beautiful days, woven by rays,

Ruthless time will shake and pale.

You will remain inside me

As unreachable, a shining beam.

And if one day the waves of passion

Cannot attract me with its usual way.

I will continue insisting on this love,

And I will be buried only with it.

Baghater%20Arabuli.png

Baghater Arabuli

This Night Is also a Day

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This night is a day too, already tired.

Feeble and lifeless, ready for its death.

Easy to notice the moon on it as a mark.

The moon—soul of the sun and its part.

This night, too, is a day for tomorrow

Exhausted and worn out and rejected.

And with a black light, so mysterious

Its body also is illuminated.

This night is a day, too, and its nuance,

its face also, and its aryl fragrance.

And the cold beaming, the radiance of the stars

It has spread on its shoulders like hot embers.

Only Just

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Let the earth be my bed, cover with your warm sky.

Let me sing for you, chant for you, be your servant.

Let me walk barefoot in front of you on thorny roads.

Let me be the wall of the unfinished temple of yours.

Share with me all tears and heart pains of yours,

And if you need even to sacrifice me, let it be so.

Oh, my motherland, only cover me with your sky.

Let me sing for you, live for you, and for you chant.

Life

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It is messed up light with twilight.

In caress is poison, in poison entice.

Time goes by, and goes on and on

To return yourself to the inner world.

And the love, we so believed yesterday,

Died from us and cheapened, devalued.

It seems that sneaked into our souls,

Judas and Caiaphas instead of virtue.

Most precious we crucified on a cross

With our sarcastic, malicious nail thorns.

It goes on and on, endlessly the same way.

The carousel continues rotating, again.

Light is labyrinthine, messed up in the dark.

In caress is poison, in poison charm.

Time goes by and goes on and on

To return to yourself again, once.

Etude

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The snow arrived, and it was followed

As a servant by the vast field wind.

Roofs had collapsed from house-buildings,

And now the snow covers them instead.

You cannot see around any of the trees,

As if they were turned to snow statues.

And over the space hangs as a leaf,

Only one orphaned remaining rook.

Sooner or Later, We Will

Return to Matsmao

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(In memory of Bathira Arabuli)

With sadness, I remember the head cliff, Matsmao’s hill.

The tears strangle me when I see the deserted village.

They who strengthened us, warmed with love, and inspired,

All are resting now there at the knotted old oak tree.

It is silence around, everywhere, even on the arable land,

Unvisited meadows, neglected gardens… Ooh, so long passed.

The sorrowful fields are overcrowded by unused weeds.

It is hazing Borola’s mountain ridge with foggy mist.

You cannot hear anymore the clamouring of the youth.

Instead of leaves, now with raven’s wings, the oak blooms.

Above, at the tree where the silence covers the old graves,

We will be buried, if it let us once, in this holy earth.

And because we all are passengers of this transient world,

Sooner or later we will return once to Matsmao’s land.

We all come here, where began this life for us once,

And will settle in our childhoods again to stay ever there.

We will live there carefree, sure, and safe.

The leaves and flowers will spread over us the old fragrance.

We will hear still the grieving and crossness of the winds.

We will illuminate our souls with the celestial rays of stars.

Will find abodes under heaven’s hall, in days and nights,

The noises of footsteps; the moon and the sun to feel.

Will feel the rustling of trees again, the breath of the stream,

When the grass grows green on the fields of the village.

To heal these pains, to ease our woes, to calm, to relieve.

We will meet again at Kalotgori or huts, on slopes of hills,

With those unrestrained, untameable desires and whims.

We will gallop horses back and train colts by whips still.

I remember the Matsmao’s hill with huge heart pain,

And tears struggle me for the already deserted village.

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David Arakhamia

Drizzling

78153.png

A beautiful tune sounds on