Vazha-Pshavela 150

enemies. I am still inexperienced; I was with my mother for only a week. She
taught me who my enemy was, and who was my friend. But now who will teach
me? I always lie in the reeds, hiding, and have no peace from the gnats and
mosquitoes. With my mother, I lived well and breathed freely...
My mother and I lived over there, on the hilly ridge, with small mountain
rivers flowing on both sides, in the shadowy mists of the forest. Our home was
difficult to reach. My mother would lie on the edge of the hill, and I would lie
next to her. The trees hid us from view on three sides, and mama herself would
look out from the fourth. From time to time she would raise her ears. I would
look at her, and imitating her, would perk up my small ears. Three times we
heard an unusual noise – it wasn’t like the roaring of the water, which I heard
all the time, or the clatter of a blackbird, or the knocking of a woodpecker. It
wasn’t even like a branch crashing down from the top of a dry tree, or the sound
of the leaves rustling in the wind. I noticed that whenever my mother heard this
unfamiliar sound, she would jump to her feet and say to me: “My child! Come,
follow me!” She would run away, and I, too, would jump up with all of my
strength. I had no idea, couldn’t understand at all whom she feared. But now I
know...Oh! How many enemies we have! Oh, man! Why do you feel no pity for
me, small as I am? Why don't you let me be, so I can walk freely, and with a
peaceful heart tread on the beautiful, green grass, stand on the top of the ridge,
and enjoy the light evening breeze?!
I can't stray far from the forest. If I go out into the meadow, I have to stay
near the edge of the forest – if I didn’t, I would die! I constantly have to look all
around, hide behind the trees, near boulders, in the grass. I eat my food, and
shuddering from fear, I can barely stand! What harm do I do to you, oh man, tell
me, what harm? What harm did my poor mama do to you, what did she drink
that was yours, what did she eat of yours that made you kill her and leave me
with no one to care for me, and make me an orphan?! Oh, humans! You depend
on your wiles and strength, and aren’t at all concerned about us. You don't feel
that we, too, love freedom. With your merciless heart, you don't feel that we,
too, love life and nature: the rustling leaves, the water’s roar, which I hear so
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