Vedreba (1968) - full transcript

A GEORGIA-FILM Studio Production

The beautiful nature of man

can never die

Vazha Pshavela

O Lord, my plea, I pray, please heed,

The only one I'm affecting:

I beg, don't let me just live and breed,

Betraying you, myself rejecting.

May madman's temper be wild and

crude

And soul know but the miracles' rule,

Appealing and thirsting for the good

May never be quenched to the full.

The prudence and the piece of mind

May never come to me, not ever.

And only in the throes of night

To grow the sprouts ofjoy may I

endeavor.

Whenever my soul is afire,

My mind at once would spread its wing,

And only then freedom will triumph

In me and celebrate its win.

May Your all-powerful hand

Protect me, keep me in Your fold,

Until my way misfortune is sent

And punish me with the graveyard cold.

And only when your peace you'll find,

Return a star to the firmament,

Fish - to the whirlpool of a river

bend,

Return my dust to earth,

My spirit to eternity,

To father and mother - their child!

THE PLEA

Based upon the poems of

VAZHA PSHAVELA

Screenplay by A. SALUKVADZE

R. KVESELAVA, T. ABULADZE

Directed by

Tengiz ABULADZE

Director of Photography

Alexander ANTIPENKO

Production Designer

R. MURZASHVILI

Music by

N. GABUNIYA

English Subtitles by

T. Kameneva

Cast:

Khvtisya - Spartak BAGASHVILI

Maiden - Rusudan KIKNADZE

Matsil - Ramaz CHKHIKVADZE

Aluda - Tengiz ARCHVADZE

Mutsal - Geidar PALAVANDISHVILI

Dzhokhola -

Otar MEGVINETUKHUTSESI

Zviadauri - Zurab KAPIANIDZE

Agaza - Nana KAVTARADZE

Master, give me shelter.

Give shelter to a traveler.

A lonely, homeless traveler.

Come in, come in, good soul.

Help you God.

How can I refuse you shelter?

Oh God, who are you?

I know you.

I talked to you many times,

but I've never had the honor

of seeing you.

You're my earthly God...

Am I worthy

of your attention, of your love?

No, I am not,

yet I'm happy about it.

What do you want, you damned one?

What do you want from me?

Why are you poisoning

my heart and soul?

Go away, get out.

I don't want to see you.

You're evil, you're the devil.

You may say what you like.

Your cursing doesn't bother me.

My nature

is strong and unchanging.

Didn't you understand yet

that you'd never win over me?

Life is like a good lump of fat.

Cut off a piece and enjoy it.

Don't forget, nothing is permanent

in this world, everything ends.

But... man's aspirations,

his thoughts,

feelings,

love,

hate - everything

life consists of,

lull the realization of a near end,

of the fact that all is vanity.

But you can't understand that.

What you're about is poison.

There it goes again: Whenever

I tell the truth, you think

it's poison.

You're mine. Mine.

Only mine.

No one will ever tear you off

from these strong paws.

I'm alive as long as you're alive.

If everything you're

telling us is true,

then how is our community going

to live?

You say that killing animals and

felling trees is a sin.

Why consider it a sin

if God has given it all to man?

Cutting trees, picking grasses,

killing cattle - you feel sorry for it,

but you don't feel sorry when killing

a man, even if he's your enemy?

What shall we do, then, to those

who trample on our land,

kidnap our wives

and debase our holy faith?

A horseman burst into their stead,

And shouted:

"The Kistins, scoundrels,

They plunder our land

And take our horses to the mountains!"

Aluda of the family of Ketelauri,

By nature was a fair man,

Besides, he was a Khevsur man,

Brave and enduring.

No few Kistins he caused to miss

A hand on the battlefield.

A coward, he has no enemies.

It's only a hero has of them

a whole guild.

Well, how about it, you treacherous

dog?

He holed my chest, the treacherous dog.

And soon my life will wilt.

O, woe is me, in the prime of the day

My life Aluda has got,

My brother and myself he's slain.

Is that the justice of the Lord?

Alright, have it, the treacherous dog,

It doesn't belong to any other.

But, Lo! The Khevsur looks so glum,

He won't even look at the gun,

He sheds a tear with a feeling.

And though his booty's worth a lot,

To disarm his enemy he's unwilling.

He won't cut off the man's right hand,

He whispers to the corpse: Mutsal,

A hero you in battle fell,

Your hand was steadfast.

I'd better have it turn to ash

At rest on your so mighty a body,

Instead of being your foe's fetish

Nailed in his mountain aboding.

The one who holds enmity supreme,

Who sows ruin everywhere,

Let him in his hut obscure and dim

Have a pond of human blood to bear.

Let him imbibe it from a cup,

And eat in bread; and as if in a shrine

The sacred thing he'd worship and

praise up,

Making a cross with bloody hands of

crime.

Let him, the generous bridegroom,

Receive his guests coming in flood,

Invite them to the table in his room

And entertain them in a pool of blood.

And let him make his bed in it,

Where he will lie down with his wife,

And he'll beget himself many a kid

And live a happy family life.

And, finally, he'll lie, the doom of

death fulfilled,

Into his bloody coffin funereal.

If you have killed, you'll also be

killed,

His family won't forgive you,

the killer.

After the Kistins at daybreak

I went across the mountains gray

And, noticing a fresh-made track,

I caught with them by cutting my way.

There were two of them to make my goal,

One infidel I struck down hard.

But Mutsal, God may save his soul,

He had the iron in place of his heart.

You mean in heaven he may rest?

I value prowess and zest,

One cannot buy it at the market place.

Three times Mutsal fired at me,

it was three times that I shot back.

My third shot killed him nearly

And made the hero a wreck.

He stopped his wound up with the grass

And in a frenzied fit he spoke,

Losing his strength, passing out fast,

Was naming me a treacherous dog.

We're always prone to believing

That we're worthy of salvation,

For infidels, that breed of evil,

We prophesy the hell's damnation.

All that we just repeat in vain

The sons of God should better know.

Those who often invoke His name

May not reveal the whole truth though.

It dawned on me that to cut off

His gallant hand would be unfair.

I may be losing fame and worth,

But listening to the voice of heart

I'd rather dare.

You'd better die without a word

Than lie to us about that horror.

You might as well take off your sword

And lay it down for women to borrow.

Your shield they may find also a fun

And use it as a weaving tool.

And it is easy to turn your gun

Into a spindle, to spin wool.

You've run away from Kistins, dog!

Worse than a woman. You killed Mutsal.

Why didn't you bring his hand along?

Why were you chasing them at all?

And all of them turned their backs

On Aluda, filled with contempt.

And they all went to their shacks

And left the village deserted, empty.

Aluda's standing all alone,

Hurt by disdain, malevolent and cold.

Never before, in word or tone,

He's been despised by the young and

old.

I'm alive against my will.

Stab me with a dagger

With all your zeal.

Just pierce me through,

For me to get rid

Of life so cheerless and appalling,

So the villagers would feed

On cruel enmity and warring.

Aluda, eat at least a crumb.

Why at the sight of a corpse you droop?

The guest must go home full,

Pour Aluda some more soup.

Aluda, since the time of your granddad

We cut off hands of the Kistins.

Alas, Khevsurs, the law is bad

That bears the mark of old sins.

I will be fighting, but never again

Shall I disgrace the dead.

You will! Since the time of your

granddad

We cut off hands of the Kistins.

I could do it too, or could I not?

But what on earth do I need it for?

It can't be used instead of a sword,

It's no good as a shield any more.

Aluda, since the time of your granddad

We cut off hands of the Kistins.

Alas, Khevsurs, the law is bad

That bears the mark of old sins.

Tell me, Aluda, who's it for

That you make a sacrifice today?

Our ruler is the Gudan Cross,

lts hold over the village is impressing

And all its slaves all over across

Are strong by only its blessing.

The lord loves Khevsurs, it is known.

Believe me, you're not alone

Who is loved by powers of heaven.

Our ruler is the Gudan Cross,

lts hold over the village is impressing.

Tell me, Aluda, who's it for

That you make a sacrifice today?

Today this sacrifice I make

For Mutsal who was never christened.

Bless it, I beg, for heaven's sake,

For the hero's honor not be treasoned.

Please, Verdiya, perform the rite,

To give away a steer I'm willing,

So that Mutsal wouldn't go right

To hell, like a thief or a villain.

What? To honor an infidel

You're willing like a Christian?

You must have gone insane as hell

When killed that foul Kistin!

Your ancestors of bygone era

Were proud of all of their victories.

You have no fear of God, you hero?

Don't heed the Devil's whisperings!

Is it the first time that you killed

Our vicious enemy, the Kistin?

Your ancestors of bygone era

Were proud of all of their victories.

You have no fear of God, you hero?

Don't heed the Devil's whisperings!

Don't turn me down, old man,

If you're a true believer in God.

I'm a slave of the Gudan Cross,

A Khevsur devoted to the faith.

You wag your tongue all just in vain,

There's no point in dissolute talk!

You wag your tongue all just in vain,

There's no point in dissolute talk.

Please, don't see it as a mortal sin,

The sacred sacrifice for Mutsal!

Look, people, here's your neighbor

Has no respect for our faith.

He sacrificed with his own hand

A steer for a lowly Kistin!

What does he think, that bragging

fiend?

That our community will spare him?

May he be damned by the Creator!

He does not deserve our pity!

Come close up around me,

The Khevsur sons, unless

We set the fire go free

Aluda won't come to sense!

Let's go burn and pillage

His home, and henceforth,

Exposed by the whole village,

He'll seek his haven by a foreign berth!

Destroy the scoundrel's tower,

Burn his supply of wheat and rye!

May our hearts exult over the flower

Of fire rising to the sky!

His sheep and goats we'll make to

Our communal property.

May he be damned by the Creator!

He does not deserve our pity!

May he be damned by the Creator!

He does not deserve our pity!

Where's our home? Our things?

There, only crows flap their wings.

They haven't left a stone standing.

Wait, son, I'm tired, be so kind.

I can't keep up that weary stride.

Lela, your wife, has fallen behind.

The kids are hungry without food,

Their feet are frozen from cold.

Why, getting up at such altitude,

We trudge in snow, with no road?

And on his dear native land

Aluda cast a final gaze.

Farewell, farewell, my dear home,

Farewell, my hunting roaming,

Where at daytime the sun to me shone,

Where at night the storm was roaring.

Farewell, my Cross, my ruler supreme,

The source of all my strength and

courage.

Here. Here.

What is it?

It's what you love.

What? What?

Life.

A human life.

Who are they burying?

Dzhodaroz. Dzhodaroz himself.

The great Dzhodaroz.

Can it be that

such an almighty man,

who had so much

power and authority,

has been conquered by death?

Was the life of such a man

but a phantom?

Has Dzhodaroz himself

become a ghost?

He was, and he is no more,

and will never be.

Did he ever think that

just like that, in an instant,

he would disappear forever,

disappear like a ghost?

Perhaps he did, or the man wouldn't

have achieved such glory and greatness.

That's how it has always been and

will be,

it will be so forever.

Winter will remain winter,

spring will be spring,

and summer will be like it was

before, like it is now.

But we'll be gone.

We'll leave this life,

turning to dust.

Only nature will never change,

it will always be like it is now.

Earth to earth,

ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

I did catch you,

you vile man,

you sordid soul.

Now I've got you.

Which grave have you

plundered today?

Answer me,

or I'll knock you off!

What are you talking about?

Why did you get that idea?

Besides, what fool would dare

to rob in the middle of the day?

Then why are you here? What have you

lost here? What are you looking for?

I'm a pilgrim, brother. A pilgrim.

Got tired of walking and sat down

to rest.

God preserve me

from stealing.

Do they rob the deceased too?

Are there such godless people on this

earth?

As many as you can imagine.

It can't be.

What do you mean, can't be?

It's the absolute truth.

But the thief

will die some day, too.

Yes, he will.

Then what are you worrying about,

old man?

It means the time will come when

the thief is robbed too.

Maybe it's so. But I won't let anyone

rob the dead. It's a sin.

All this are just visions.

And you and I are but apparitions

in this world.

So there's no point in exaggerating

your own importance.

Perhaps you're really an apparition,

but I am not.

I have a house, I eat, drink,

sleep, wake up, walk.

I'm no apparition.

Tomorrow someone else will take your

place and live in your house.

My house was burning

and people just stood watching.

And no one would even move

to try to stop the fire.

For them it was just a spectacle.

And only she

did not stand aloof.

She tried to save my house,

but the people didn't see her.

If they could see her,

they might have tried

to do something.

Only she was

trying to save my house.

The fire was devouring everything.

It was raging with such a malice

as if it was taking revenge on me.

It raged with an increasing vigor,

not suspecting that

it is not everlasting either.

It burned as long as there was

something to burn.

And when it went out,

only black coals and ashes

remained from

its recent power.

Yes, the power and greatness of

fire was illusory.

And only she,

the child of heaven, is not illusory.

Only she doesn't change,

forever beautiful,

forever sublime,

and forever human.

Pale-faced and sunk in silence dense,

All covered with nocturnal greens,

On the throne of a mountain expanse

Was seen the land of the Kistins.

Why do you wander here, son of sin?

I'm a hunter, as you can see,

But no trust I may have in you.

Why such a doubtful admission?

Why say such things just time to kill?

Or can't you meet without suspicion

A fellow traveler on the hill?

I'm a hunter too, but for now

I got no catch, for better or for worse.

All is in God's hands, you know,

At least you didn't suffer any loss.

My only loss - it was so stressing

To get to this here place, by George.

Today I climbed over every crossing,

I rummaged over every gorge.

And suddenly the gloom of night

Set in, the wind began to tear

And howl in the mountains, as might

A hungry wolf in his lonely lair.

To find a path so far from home

Was hard, at night I couldn't see.

I never had a chance to roam

Those parts, they're unknown to me.

Well, greetings, brother.

Why are you standing so far?

You had no luck today -

You'll have it tomorrow.

Greetings to you, too.

I wish you always had good luck.

Let's share, like good brothers would,

My hunting bag that I've got today.

Aren't you a Khevsur, by any chance?

What do they call you?

My name is Nunua.

My hut is in the village of Chiz.

Reveal to me your name as well.

I'm Dzhokhola Alkhastaidze.

My village is just within a stone's

throw.

If you're looking for a lodging,

We'll go there, you and I.

I don't know if it'll be to your liking,

But you're welcome in my shack.

After a good sleep you'll awaken

And can set out on the road back.

He's a fool who never sowed

To hope to reap a harvest's wealth.

You've cut the throat of the goat,

And you should have it to yourself.

I'll spend the night until daybreak

And help you carry home the game.

But sharing with you your take,

A man must have some sense of shame.

A Kistin village looks from the high,

Like an eagle preparing for its dive.

Its sight is gladdening his eye,

As would the breasts of his beautiful

wife.

There, here's our simple hut,

Our ancient family abode.

A guest is always welcome here,

Come, feel at home after a long road.

Open up, Agaza dear,

A guest's been sent our way.

There must be no doubt in believing

That our house has been blessed.

Let's see how good are you at receiving

A new acquaintance in your nest.

Peace to the comer under our roof.

Peace to you too, and may in truth

You prosper with your husband and kids.

Kistins, our blood enemy

Is taking lodging with Dzhokhola.

Of our hills the worst highwayman,

The bloodsucker of our peaceful land,

It seems Dzhokhola, our tribesman,

Has never seen him in our highland.

Now he's in our grip, warmonger,

For old hurts we'll pay him tough.

We'll now see whose hand is stronger.

Hasn't he had our blood enough?

The neighbor killed by him last spring

Demands an act of vengeance.

Kistins, our blood enemy

Is taking lodging with Dzhokhola.

But we have not been weakened yet,

We'll have the enemy's blood yield.

If not, let women, not men at that,

Take to carry our sword and shield.

Kistins, our blood enemy

Is taking lodging with Dzhokhola.

The neighbor killed by him last spring

Demands an act of vengeance.

If we respect our fathers' behest,

How can we just forget and rest?

Kistins, our blood enemy

Is taking lodging with Dzhokhola.

The neighbor killed by him last spring

Demands an act of vengeance.

But we have not been weakened yet,

We'll have the enemy's blood yield.

If not, let women, not men at that,

Take to carry our sword and shield.

Kistins, you've all gone mad or so?

Whose guest is lying here tied and

tame?

Why, in contempt of the old law,

You've put me to such shame?

I swear by Mohamed's faith

That hospitality is our honor.

If you forgot it in your rave,

I've got my gun, you know.

Oh, fool, just stop your blabber.

Who'd dare raise his wretched hand

At his own mother,

A bloody enemy to defend?

Come to your senses, oh, my foot!

Whom do you shelter in your home?

This guest and his host to boot

We'll push the highest mountain from.

How can you be such an oaf, truly?

In our mountains any kid

Can recognize Zviadauri.

But he has tricked you. Yes, he did.

Was not it him who plundered here?

Was not he hiding in the bush?

Like a beast, so cruel and severe,

Attacking us from his ambush?

Dzhokhola looks, and a hint of doubt

Crept in his heart forjust a second.

And lost in thought, before the crowd

He hung his head, he stood and

reckoned.

Didn't he, the wild beast, on another

Occasion hid in our wood,

And then he killed your own brother,

And rode away with a winning hoot?

That's what I'm like, Zviadauri! -

The mountains echoed his rhyme.

How vicious a man is that Khevsuri

We have known since that time.

He grazes on his Khevsur grass

The cattle, which is ours by right.

He carried a fierce war with us

And roused the enemy to fight.

Why d'you disgrace, you poor wretch,

Yourself, your wife, your homestead,

And in your blindness of no match

You share with him your bread and bed?

You may be right, it may be so,

But what you say is not the cause

For taking in your hands the law.

You're twice as villainous, of course.

Kistins, he's my guest today,

And even if he has amassed

A sea of blood, there's no way

That a highlander betrays his guest.

Let go, Musa, and step aside,

Don't torture him, you killer.

As soon as he goes outside,

Then do what you like, whatever.

Neighbors, it's not on the high road

You threaten the enemy with strength.

What answer, standing in my abode,

You're going to give to our hearth?

O, woe is you, Kistins, what for

An unarmed man are you so bold

To overwhelm and scorn the law

Of our fathers centuries old?

You'll get it too. What d'you expect?

Tie up the scoundrel right away,

As long as he does not respect

The tribal order we obey.

Since we've laid hands on the Khevsur,

We don't blame you lock and stock.

Yet on account of that giaour

You fight your brothers like a dog.

What? Me dog? How dare you, slave,

Call me a dog, you dirty rat?!

Go, damned dog, to the grave,

To spare me further snarling at!

What has he done!

The man must be at his wit's end!

You have been dragging through the mud

All that I hold sacred, sons of Kistin.

I'll kill, as Allah is my God,

You all, although you're my kin.

You've smeared our laws of shelter.

May you be damned for eternity!

They beat Dzhokhola with all might,

And rounded up, prostrate and trod,

He was bound with a rope tight,

Before he managed to draw his sword.

Beaten up and thrown on the straw,

He, like a corpse, is lying by the door.

We fear death,

But whenever there is a chance

To see the other's end in full,

To the execution one would prance

And just enjoy it, a stupid fool.

Oh, how many monsters do I know

Who have only sin as their worth,

Yet they emit of innocence a glow

And walk in peace on our earth.

What does Zviadauri really want

As he whispers many an indistinct word?

The Khevsur's blood is running hot,

But in his hand there's no sword.

Yes, it is your day of luck.

Alas, you've got me in your hole.

Already the people in the dark

Drag him somewhere with a frenzied

howl.

It's time for the murderer obscene

To go down to the dark of coffin.

And please the dead by fetching them in

The water, to the otherworldly din,

Or weave the sandals for them from

bark.

There's a gloomy hill in the village's

enclaves,

Burnt by the sun to the very ground.

There, lying deep in their graves,

Sleep lionhearted bodies under a mound.

The water washed their remains,

The hill provided a clay shroud.

Under the vault of a stone tomb

The brave men's heartbeat has been

ceased.

The earth's insatiable womb

Eats up the bones of the deceased,

Obliterates the human face

Of all who were furious and bold,

Who didn't lose heart in the fighting

race,

Who didn't waver with a sword in hold.

It is the fatal sin of nature

That saddens me and makes me cry:

Whether good or evil you may be

a creature,

Your time will come and you will die.

As every sailor will be swallowed

By water if his ship overturns.

Darla, forget you ever suffered.

Darla, look up and you will see

The whole village here gathered,

As did the villain who killed thee.

As sacrifice to the other world

We'll throw him to lie beside you.

Darla, forget you ever suffered.

Darla, look up and you will see

The whole village here gathered,

As did the villain who killed thee.

As sacrifice to the other world

We'll throw him to lie beside you.

A dog will be a sacrifice to

the infidel!

Acknowledge your master, foul dog!

Become a sacrifice for our Darla!

A dog will be a sacrifice to

the infidel!

The damned now sees the door of coffin,

But he doesn't want to be sacrificed!

Acknowledge your master, foul dog!

Become a sacrifice for our Darla!

A dog will be a sacrifice to

the infidel!

The damned now sees the door of coffin,

But he doesn't want to be sacrificed!

Acknowledge your master, foul dog!

Become a sacrifice for our Darla!

Darla, forget you ever suffered.

Darla, look up and you will see

The whole village here gathered,

As did the villain who killed thee.

As sacrifice to the other world

We'll throw him to lie beside you.

Darla, forget you ever suffered.

Darla, look up and you will see

The whole village here gathered,

As did the villain who killed thee.

As sacrifice to the other world

We'll throw him to lie beside you.

A dog will be a sacrifice to

the infidel!

A dog will be a sacrifice to

the infidel!

Acknowledge your master, foul dog!

Become a sacrifice for our Darla!

A dog will be a sacrifice to

the infidel!

Look, people, at his hour of death

He didn't even bat an eye.

It's time for the murderer obscene

To go down to the dark of coffin.

If only an ax I managed to find,

I would've killed those villains here

And freed the prisoner without fear,

My relatives I would've defied.

But has a Kistin woman ever

Had any power over men?

Acknowledge your master, foul dog!

Become a sacrifice for our Darla!

A dog will be a sacrifice to

the infidel.

Darla, forget you ever suffered.

Darla, look up and you will see

The whole village here gathered,

As did the villain who killed thee.

As sacrifice to the other world

We'll throw him to lie beside you.

It's time for the murderer obscene

To go down to the dark of coffin!

Acknowledge your master, foul dog!

Become a sacrifice to our Darla!

A dog will be a sacrifice...

A dog will be a sacrifice...

His woman's life was sweet and quiet

Under the shelter of her husband,

When in the stillness of the night

She lay beside him in their bed.

So close together were their breasts

At midnight hour.

Who would have guessed

That people make her forget him now.

His life slips away, his blood is

spilling.

Zviadauri was dying, no doubt.

But his courageous heart the killer

Could neither subjugate nor rout.

Allah is our witness, don't we know

That he hasn't smeared his soul with

sin.

He fought with us like a tiger though

And fallen for the land of his kin.

We wouldn't even touch the Khevsur

If our foes hadn't beaten us.

But foes are there to fight them.

To be a sacrifice he did not want,

So let him lie in the cold and dark -

It is his well-deserved lot.

The Kistins hadn't attained their goal,

Though they cut the brave man's head.

And, as they planned to, they failed

to dole

A generous dinner to the dead.

The night was falling once again.

The last sunray had left the slopes.

And dark, reclaiming its domain,

Clouded the mountains' high tops.

With inexplicable distress,

The proud cliff at the graveyard peers

And pours over feeble universe

The slow-flowing streams of tears.

The graveside stillness calls for grief,

A brother's remains for a sister's

weeping,

The woods at night for a deer's gallop

swift

And feasts of wolves, rapacious and

sweeping.

Death on the battlefield is fitting

For one who holds a sword in his hand,

For a fight - the enemy being smitten

And the hero's triumph in the end.

But who is going to mourn

Zviadauri's body though?

Only the tempest's wailing drone,

The waterfalls' thunder, the mountains'

sough.

Whenever I see only good done,

The judgment I'm not to pass.

To mourn over a fallen hero

Befits any woman, any lass.

Lord, join together the newlyweds!

Lord, join together the newlyweds!

Lord, join together the newlyweds!

Lord, join together the newlyweds!

Hear!

Hear! Hear!

Kursika Chalkhoshvili

sends his greetings to you.

I was called a thief, he says.

My good neighbors are

accusing me of stealing mules.

I swear by God, he says,

I am a thief, and I'm proud of it.

He presented gold to the newlyweds.

Praise and honor to him!

Praise and honor to him!

Sending their greetings to you

from the upper villages are

Boigar, Parangoz, Buchliya and Gelika.

From the lower villages - Antimoz,

Dzidzilo, Zviada,

as well as Tedua,

and also Givi and highlander Chalkhia.

We will spare nothing, they say,

for such a bridegroom.

We only want to drink and eat to our

heart's content at the wedding.

We'll give our Matsil whatever he

wants: Pastures and rivers,

our valleys and mountains,

everything he likes.

Praise and honor to them!

Praise and honor!

Praise and honor!

Also sending his greetings is our

Khvtisiya.

I've got beggarly, he says, in my

constant caring for my neighbor.

I have neither gold nor silver.

Nothing but this weapon

inherited from my forebears.

And I'm giving it to the bridegroom.

Praise and honor upon him!

Praise and honor!

Praise and honor!

Put the child

in the bride's lap.

May the Lord send you happiness

and such sons!

O Lord, lay to rest Thy servant.

O Lord, lay to rest Thy servant.

O Lord, lay to rest Thy servant.

O Lord, lay to rest Thy servant.

They're digging graves again.

New graves for people.

Oh, God! I cannot

see any more graves.

Show me something else,

good and joyous.

Show me this meadow with flowers.

Show me these same people

looking happy and cheerful.

I can't see gravediggers anymore.

I don't want to see graves anymore.

I'd ratherjump down the precipice

or get drowned, only not to see this.

I don't want to look back.

I don't want to see this world.

Where shall I go? Where?

If You strike me with a lightning,

Lord, before You I'm standing,

With my hands true to the good,

With my soul, never bending.

No hardship will ever break me,

I abhor filth and decay.

Even if I get a sea of misfortune,

Faith in the truth will never die!

The End