An aloe stands in solitude upon a lofty precipice;
The sunbeams mingling with the shades the myriad boughs caress and kits.
‘Tis Joy to dream beneath her shade – a refuge from this world of woe-
Where rustling leaves give soft response to murmurs of the stream below.
The wind the slender aloe bends; the river hums in harmony;
And all these sounds sweet slumber lure, where dreams expire in melody.
‘Midst nature’s things there is a tongue – the essence of a flow divine:
In vain can mortal lips express a sound more eloquent and fine!
In hopeless love the Mtkvari heaves; the rushing waters swish and hiss;
It cannot reach its loved one’s feet, and beats with wrath the precipice.
The fair chinnari from its height in proud and haughty dignity,
Inclines its head and sadly sighs as Mtkvari groans in agony.
As gentle breezes sway the tree, the waters whirled from passions deep
By jealous frenzy rendered white, burst on and lash the rocky steep…
The heart must suffer endless pain if love sincere within it hides,
And if the love thus cherished dear in scorching fires of passion bides!
