Vakht'ang Datunashvili

A hard-working village man, Vakht'ang took precious time away from the harvest to record.  With a large porch lined with golden potatoes and fingers dusted with the fertile soil of K’akheti, he sat down to sing a ballad on his panduri.1


Born and raised in Vazisubani in the plains of eastern Georgia, Vakht’ang lives with his son and daughter-in-law where he works the land and fondly remembers his childhood and the songs of his youth.


1A three-stringed, fretted lute common in all regions of northeastern Georgia. The instrument is most frequently used to accompany ballad singing.  Read more about the panduri here

Vakht'ang Datunashvili - Obolze
+ Song Info

A ballad about an orphan.


Vakht'ang says he learned this song in school as a child. His mother would always request that he sing it, and would cry as he did. It was only as Vakht'ang grew older that he realized why the song made his mother emotional - She herself had grown up an orphan.

+ Lyrics


(scroll down for English translation)


Mart’odmart’o zis oboli

Zis da kvitinebs mts’areda

Mama shin ar hqavs sabralos

Dats gamosvlia agrea


Guli eleva sabralos

Disa da mamis lodinshi

/Verts k’ari chaouk’et’ia

Verts chats’olila loginshi/


Ghame mtvare katkatebs

Pinia hqepavs k’arzeda

/Shin k’i p’at’ara obolsa

Tsremli chamozdis tvalzeda/


Rom daighleba t’irilit

Da jdoma maets’qineba

/K’aris ts’in parat’unebze

Mits’veba miedzineba/


Dedasa khedavs sizmarshi

Ghimili mozdis p’irzeda

/K’abis ghils ukhsnis dedik’os

K’otsnis da ek’vris jinzeda/


Sad damemale, sad ts’akhval

Vistan iqavi dedao

Sami ghamia mshieri

Vidzineb zedizedao


Idzine shvilo, idzine

Idzine t’k’bili dzilita

/Ts’qnarad guldamshvidebulsa

Shen gageghvidzos dilita/


Tskhadad ver nakhav dedasa

Ver chaek’vrebi ubeshi

Guli k’vlav agit’irdeba

Magram tsremlia nugeshi




The Orphan


The orphan sits alone

He sits and cries bitterly

Poor boy, his father is not home

His sister has gone out as well


In waiting for his father and sister

His heart is wasted

He doesn’t close the doors

He doesn’t lay down in bed


It’s night and the moon shines white

A dog barks at the door

And inside is the small orphan

With tears falling from his eyes


When he tires of crying

And is bored of sitting

He lies in front of the door

Until he falls asleep


He sees his mother in a dream

A smile comes to his face

He opens his mom’s dress

And kisses her


Where have you gone? Where did you hide?  

Who were you with, Mom?

It has been four days that

I am going to sleep hungry


Sleep my child, sleep

Sleep with sweet dreams

Quietly, calmly, peacefully

You will wake up in the morning


Obviously you find Mother

You won’t be able to embrace her

Your heart again will cry

But know that tears are consolation