I hate you because, why are you powerless
with strong arm and weeping face
and your fate, fate black fate
You who condemn the friend and fail to recognize the enemy,
you who conclude a truce with your undoer,
awaiting your fate by lying on your side,
with empty pocket and unlit mind.
Still I love you, onto my wounded dream
you are sewn like a diamond button;
I could never forget you, you're never apart from my heart,
whether I'm awake or asleep.
Poison burns my mouth, confusing my mood,
at the end it still seemed sweet.
Also most likely it's a law of nature;
If you are mother, I belong to you as child!
Vazha Pshavela [Luka Razikashvili] (1861 - 1915) Georgia
Translated by Lela Jgerenaia
Source: Algeo.org
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