My impatient fate
Approaches me,
Stepping zealously
On the air.
It approaches me quietly,
Without noise,
It comes from
The remote area.
And I feel
That in no time,
It’ll open
With its burning fingers
The sacred, the whitest
Door of mine.


My Prairies And My Jungle

When that we were favourites of sky and heavens
When that we were favourites of prairies and jungle

When that we were happy. We thought to another neither
Then we were able to cry and laughter... Smiled each other

Now my wolves get accustomed of collars- skins-colour's
Now even the dogs escape from the house to the far-forest

And small sparrows have started to fly in warm to the country.
But starlings and swallows remained to me of winter's nests...

Tsira Gogeshvili

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ananke/