Vazha-Pshavela 150

“Yes, yes, it's so, my child! As long as your mother is alive, don't be afraid;
when I am no longer around for you, then you must be cautious!”
Oh, how inexperienced I am, poor me!
III
Once it was very hot. My mother got up from her bed and suggested we go
to the stream. We went out, and made our way down a slope covered with small
trees. We passed through the reeds and reached the river. The ravine was so
deep the sun’s rays couldn’t reach the bottom. The trees, stretching from both
banks, were woven together like the ends of a rope. At the base of the trees,
blackberry roots grew out over the riverbank, their red heads bent, looking at
the flowing water. The cold, limpid water gurgled along the glistening boulders,
pouring over one rock and then another, and formed into pools. My mother
came up and stood directly in a pool. My hooves were hurting, and I could
barely walk on the rocks.
“Come here, my child, step into the water, it’s pleasant to stand in the water
in hot weather.”
I went down and cautiously put one foot in the water. It was terribly cold,
and I jumped back right away.
“It’s cold, I can't stand here.”
“Nothing horrible will happen to you, you need to get used to this now, my child!”
I stood in the water a short while, and then we turned back. We heard a
sound above us in a clear-cut area of the forest.
“That’s not frightening,” my mother said to me. “It’s a mother and a small
child. Our enemy doesn't cry like that, but still, we need to be careful.” We
climbed up through the thicket, so we wouldn't be visible at the edge of the
forest, so no one could see us.
My mother walked on ahead. My heart couldn’t stand it, and I looked back.
I hid my body, revealing only my head. Then, I heard a sound from below: “Oh,
mommy, mommy, a wolf, mommy, a wolf!”
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