Vazha-Pshavela 150

The Story Told by a Fawn
I
Vazha-Pshavela
I am very, very small, an orphan. Fate has been cruel to me. I’ve become an
orphan at a bad time. My fur is still thin, and the light spots scattered on my
short hair are like small, white eyes. My antlers and teeth haven’t come in yet,
and my hooves have not yet grown hard.
I make my way with difficulty, like one who’s lost his way. Just look at my
bloody feet - here, when I went down to the ravine to drink water, I got hurt. I
feel so sad…my heart... My poor mother! While my mother was alive, she was
always so kind to me: she nursed me, caressed me, and warned me about danger.
What will happen to me now, poor me! I no longer nurse at her breast, I
only suck the dew from the grass in the morning and evening, when there is
dew, and I am dying from the desire to drink milk. Since I have no one to take
care of me, I’m always afraid, I tremble, and wander about aimlessly, constantly
expecting death... oh Lord, how many enemies we have!
Not long ago, distraught, I went to the edge of the meadow…I was looking
all around. Suddenly, I heard a thundering noise above my head. I looked up –
an enormous grey-black bird, its wings tucked in and its beak gaping, was swooping
straight toward me. Frightened, I jumped back into the forest.
The accursed bird was aiming directly at me. It couldn’t hold itself back,
and fell on the very spot where I’d just been standing. I tremble all over when I
remember its curved beak and its claws, sharp like uncut diamonds. It headed
straight toward me, and when it didn’t find me, thwacked its wings over the
grasses and the blackberry bushes. Looking everywhere with its frightful, yellow
eyes, it was offended by my escape. It rose up, barely able to free itself
from the blackberry bushes. I hid behind a tree, and watched from there,
squinting with one eye, my heart beating.
My dear forest! You help me so much, and if you didn’t, I wouldn’t have a
single hair left on my fur coat. My heart tells me I will become the victim of my
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