Drops of blood from the heart
In a windy night I am writing these lines, while the drops of rain are falling on the windowpane and the piano sobs for farness.
I recall now the gusty days of my life and shudder of remorse consumes me.
The same time, I am thrilled to be Terenti Graneli.
There is a rift right in front of me and a dark fog covers me.
Since the birth of the world, I have been walking steadily to the light to see the Sun.
Perhaps, I have been captivated by remote and unseen.
Have come before time.
And now, once again, I am reaching the darkness that is like a Sea and in which my body will descend eternally.
Each night brings the consideration about death and farness.
And I am feared.
I think it will rain, when I am no longer alive. Still, I believe in eternal life.
By virtue of Poetry I perceived that somewhere faraway, there is a sky blue land of everlasting life where my mournful soul is hovering.
It is a gusty night and I am willing to be elsewhere.
The poetry is able to bring unforeseen cheerfulness that resembles glide through the skies.
I have never wanted to live.
Nor to die.
I wished for something else.
Now I believe that there is the third path, in the same way I believe in mystery.
Once again I am standing at the soundless frontier of the eternity like a mourning seraph and waiting for the phantom of Christ which will rescue me from ordeal.
And I believe in life apart from a body.
I address the entire world with the following words:
I am willing to fly.
I am willing to be everywhere, like a God.
I have been remaining in this sinful world like a child.
And I do not know how to break free from the mud that is called the Earth.
Yet something else.
I say: There are no words that can describe feelings.
There is still a gusty night outside, the drops of rain are still falling on the windowpane and the piano still sobs for farness.
/თარგმნა გაბრიელა აგილერამ/