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Gogia and Valo, aged seventy-five and eighty-five respectively at the time of recording, are long-time neighbors and friends. They are from Melaani, a village set amidst rolling hills of K'akhetian vineyards.
Both men were members of the well-known Gurjaani Ensemble during the Soviet Union and have sung together for decades.
During the 1625 Battle of Marabda against the Iranian army, nine Georgian brothers died alongside their sister and mother defending the homeland.
To hear another song about the Nine Brothers Kherkheulidze, visit the page of Sopia K'akhabrishvili.
Below is a translation of Lado Asatiani's poem ''The Nine Kherkheulidze Brothers'' which explains more of the story behind this song. This translation is from page 178 of Venera Urushadze's ''Anthony of Georgian Anthology'' published in 1958.
The Nine Kherkheulidze Brothers
Nine brothers lived and toiled together.
They ploughed and sowed on field and plain.
Where'er they worked the fields were blessed
With fragrant hay and golden grain.
And now upon that very field
The brothers come to fight the foe.
Dawn, creeping from the eastern sky,
Lights up Marabda field, and lo!
Shields, banners, swords, the cross gleam in
The sun's first rays. The trumpets blow!
The Georgians forward rush with cries:
"For Kartli, strike! Down with the foe!"
A living mass of fire and steel
Rolls on the field. Foremost of all
The brothers fight, devoid of fear,
And stand together like a wall.
They watch the youngest of the nine
To see that he fall not behind.
Though very young, his every blow
Cleaves through a helmet swift as wind,
The sword grows redder, death-shots pour,
The earth with mortal clay is spread.
The field once golden now runs red
With the blood of a myriad dead.
The enemy breaks through... Soon four
Of the brothers sink on the ground.
A horseman bearing Georgia's flag
Rides quick away for the hills bound.
The roaring mass of fire and steel
Is hushed and scattered on the field.
The sun's last rays now gleam on cold
Dead eyes and broken limb and shield.
The scythe of death a harvest reaps
Of men who died for their country;
Their names, not born to die, will live,
Their souls will light the heavens high.
Tskhra Dzma Kherkheulidze
(scroll down for English translation)
Marabdis velze ibrdzoda
Kherkheulidze dzmania
/Tskhra iqo, tskhrave daetsa,
Tskhram brdzolit suli dalia/
Deda tana hqavs shvilebsa
Gmiri kartveli kalia
Shvilebi rom chaukhotses
Tviton aigho khmalia
Bevri momkhvduri chak’apa
Adina siskhlis ghvaria
Bevri momkhvduri chak’apa
Adina siskhlis ghvaria
Mat ar dautmes mamuli
Da moikhades valia
Mat ar dautmes mamuli
Da moikhades valia
Marabdas dadga mzis skhivi
Mt’ris saplavebze ghamea
Translation:
Fighting in the Marabdi Valley1
Were the Kherkheulidze brothers
There were nine, all nine died
Nine souls perished in struggle
A mother of many children
A heroic Georgian woman
When the children all died
She herself took the sword
She struck many down
Blood came in torrents
She struck many down
Blood came in torrents
They didn’t endanger
The value of the fatherland
They didn’t endanger
The value of the fatherland
At night there is a ray of sun
For the dead of Marabda
1During the 1625 Battle of Marabda against the Iranian army, nine Georgian brothers (the Kherkheulidze brothers) died alongside their sister and mother defending the homeland.
Poetry by Mirza Gelovani (1917-1944), a Georgian poet who died fighting in the Soviet ranks during World War II. He was posthumously rewarded the Shota Rustaveli State Prize in 1975.
Samamulo Omis Monatsileta
Poetry by Mirza Gelovani
Dzmata saplavze tsetskhli inteba
Shinmousvleli dzmebi gvakhsovdes
Movalt nislebad movalt ts’vimebad
Jarisk’atsebad agharasodes
Kharobs samshoblo, mgheris buneba
Aravis akhsovs mts’are ts’utebi
Dabrundebian budes mertskhlebi
Chven k’i verasdros ver davbrundebit
Ar davbrundebit, ver davbrundebit
Ver vagugunebt dzmobis k’erias
Tkventvis vibrdzodit rotsa vibrdzodit
Tkventvis vibrdzodit rats gvibrdzolia
Erti qumbaro gveqo samives
Tkveni mzisatvis tavi gavts’iret
Bevrni viqavit erti samara
Tkhilis gulivit gavinats’ilet
Magram sitsotskhle isev grdzeldeba
Shinmousvleli dzmebi gvakhsovdes
Movalt nislebad, movalt ts’vimebad
Jarisk’atsebad agharasodes
Translation:
There is a fire lit at the brothers' graves
We will remember these unripe men
We will come in fog, we will come in rain
But those soldiers will never come again
The homeland delights, nature sings
But no one remembers the bitter minutes
The swallows return to their nests
But we shall not
We won’t return, we can’t return
We can no longer light our brothers' hearths
We fought for you when we fought
What did we fight for?
One grenade was enough for three
We died for your light of day
We were many in one grave
Packed like nuts in a shell
But life goes on
May we remember our lost brothers
For we will come in fog, we will come in rain
But the soldiers will never come again
The song tells of three hundred men from the highlands of Pshavi, Khevsureti and Mtiuleti along the Aragvi River, who gathered together in 1795 and fought in the Battle of Krtsanisi against the invading Qajar Army. They pledged to fight until their death, and only a few returned home. Many famous Georgian authors have paid tribute to the men in their writings. In 2008 they were canonized as martyrs by the Georgian Orthodox Church.
To hear other versions of this song, visit the pages of Neli Bugechashvili, Babuli Janirashvili and Didebai Ensemble.
Samasi Aragveli
Uch’k’nobelia sitsotskhle
Samasi aragvelisa
Samasi gmirma mtielma
Arts’ivis prtebi sheiskha
Da gadmoprindnen tbilisshi
Erek’les rotsa uch’irda
Da gadmoprindnen tbilisshi
P’at’ara k’akhs rom uch’irda
Qvelas goneba uch’rida
Da qvelas khmalits uch’rida
Ati meomris ts’inashe
Erti kartveli dgeboda
Ismoda tskhenis pekhis khma
Tskhenits k’i qalqze dgeboda
Tsam daiqara ghrublebi
Lurji ghrublebi tsisani
/Mat ar dautmes mamuli
Javrits ar ch’ames mt’risani/
Mat ar dautmes mamuli
Javrits ar ch’ames mt’risani
Da darchnen marad
Ertgulad shvilebi aragvisani
Translation:
The story of the Three Hundred Aragvelians1
Will never fade
Three hundred Mtiul2 heros
Like wings of an eagle
Flew down to Tbilisi
When King Erek’le3 was in need
They flew down to Tbilisi
When young men were needed
All of them were cut down
All with blades were cut down
In front of one Georgian
Stood ten enemies
He heard the sound of hooves
For the horse too was prancing
The sky was scattered with clouds
Blue clouds filled the sky
They were loyal to the fatherland
For sorrow alone doesn't eat the enemy
Those children from Aragvi4
Will remain eternally honored
1The three hundred men from the highlands along the Aragvi River, that gathered together in 1795 and fought the Battle of Krtsanisi against the invading Qajar Army. They pledged to fight until their death, and only a few returned home. Many famous Georgian authors have paid tribute to the men in their writing. In 2008 they were canonized as martyrs in the Georgian Orthodox Church.
2People from the highland of Mtiuleti in northeast Georgia, along the Aragvi River. Read more about Mtiuleti here.
3King Erek'le II, also referred to as Heraclius II of Georgia, reigned as King of Ka'kheti from 1744-1762.
4The major river of the eastern Georgian highlands of Khevsureti, Pshavi and Mtiuleti. The 112 kilometer long Aragvi was dammed in Zhinvali in 1986, forming the Zhinvali Reservoir which provides power to much of Georgia. The river eventually flows into the Mt'k'vari at Mtskheta.