In Memory of Mikhail Khergiani
You are walking the edge of an iceberg, Looking at the summit and the ranges. The mountains sleep, inhaling the clouds, And exhaling the snow avalanches. But they donít take their eyes off you, As though a rest has been promised to you, Always warning you each time Of the crevasses and other dangers. Mountains know, trouble came to them, The passes have been covered with smoke. Then you couldnít tell the difference Between explosions and avalanches. And when you asked and begged for help, The cliffs answered you with a loud echo. The wind carried the echo of mountains Through the gorges, like radio signals. And when there was a battle beyond the pass, And to save you from the enemyís eye, Every rock covered you with its chest, The cliffs held you on their mighty shoulders. Itís a lie, that the smart wonít go up the mountain - You went, you didnít believe the rumors. And the granite softened, and the ice melted, And the fog lay before your feet like down. If you will he into eternal snow forever, Above you as though you are dearest; The mountain ranges will bend down With the worldís most lasting obelisk.
© Nathan Mer. Translation, 1991