Mariam Gogoch'uri
Ch'ie

Mariam was born in 1944 in the village of Buchuk'urta, Khevsureti.  She married into Ch’ie, which today is a small village of just four houses at least an hour’s hike up from the nearest road.

 

Shortly after giving birth to her son in this remote village, both her husband and father-in-law died in tragic accidents and she was left to raise the child on her own.

 

''Some days,'' she says, ''it is hot and my cows go up to the forest. I sit out there, just sitting, with bread and cheese in my hand. Sometimes I think about the past. Sometimes I cry. And sometimes, all by myself, I sing!''

Mariam Gogoch'uri - Siqvarulis Ts'erilze
+ Song Info

A love letter.

+ Lyrics

Siqvarulis Ts’erilze

(scroll down for English translation)

 

/Dghes ra ghamdeba, ver get’qvit

Khval k’i moveli k’virasa/

 

/Unda davasts’ro leksis tkma

Gasatenebel dilasa/

 

/Lekso ts’erilit gaggzavni

Khels eghirsebi mzisasa/

 

/Shen unda gitkhra mtskhovrebo

Gaghma perdobis p’irasa/

 

/Didi khania lamazo

Mchagrav maqeneb ziansa/

 

/Guls gamichine ch’riloba

Gunebas khalisiansa/

 

Ts’ameba geqo maride

Otsnebas burusiansa

/Gzas ek’lebians mashore

Maghirse qvaviliansa/

 

/Davgmo t’anjuli sitsotskhle

Gavudge khalisiansa/

 

/An tu mghalot’ob isats tkvi

Gzas me ar vzogav mt’riansa/

 

/Dzvirad dausom tsilobas

Vints gind daso makhiansa/

Shen tavs aravis davutmob

Isev dghes davtmob mziansa

Shens sakhels arvis vaghirseb

Vpitsav mtebs qinuliansa

 

/Mkholod imattan nu chamotvli

Zog rom qels uts’evs tmiansa/

 

/Ar vitkhov dananebasa

Ar shavkhvets’nior shriaksa/

 

/Me ar vuqureb sinazes

Arts ch’reli k’abis shrialsa/

Arts silamazes vuqureb

Arts enit lakardiansa

 

/Mkholod vet’rpobi khasiats

Sitsotskhles sinatliansa/

/Vgmob veridebi iset mzes

P’irs badavs sirtskhviliansa/

/Mash saboloo otsnebas

Mivandob ghamis ts’qvdiadsa/

 

Translation:

 

A Love Letter

 

What the night will bring, I cannot say

But tomorrow Sunday will come

 

I want to write a poem

Before the morning arrives

 

I will send you the poem in a letter

Your hands will be honored by the sun

 

I want to say to you,

Resident of the opposite slope

 

That it is a long time, my dear

That I am oppressed and hurt by you

 

You wounded my heart

And my buoyant nature

 

I've had enough of this torture,

This foggy dream

Distance me from this thorny road

Give me a flowery path

 

Enough with this torturous life

I want to live joyfully

 

If you betray me, then say it

For I show no mercy to the road’s enemies

 

I don't care who you want -

I won’t give you up to anyone

Today I prefer the sun

I swear on the icy mountains

I won't let others utter your name.

 

Only don't consider me as

A man who flirts with others

 

I am not asking you to pity me

I am not begging you

 

I don't look at tenderness

Nor the rustling of colorful dresses

Nor does language matter

I don’t look at beauty

 

I worship only character, the light of life

I refuse the sun who bows her head in shame

So finally I give my dreams

To the night’s gloom

Mariam Gogoch'uri - Oblobaze
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+ Lyrics

Oblobaze

Text: Ivane Ts’ik’lauri

(scroll down for English translation)

 

Lekss it’qvis tushi omari

Tsimbirshi chamovjdebi

 

Tem-soplis madzulebuli

Vints sik’vdils daghvits’qebia

 

Otsi ts’lis gasadzlebuli

Shors qinulebshi vzrebia

 

Vazhk’atss otsdakhut ts’lisasa

Sul gamitetrda tmebia

 

K’ldeshi jikhvebis mimqoli

Ekhla pekhze dzliv vdgebia

 

Dznelia akit ts’asvlai

Vazhk’atss gind ebas mkhrebia

 

Pkhizloben rogorts mglebia

Am tskhveba k’veri oblisa

 

Makhsovs met’qoda bebia

T’olebs k’i maints ajobebs

 

Obols tan hqveba bedia

Ded-mama mashin momk’vdara

 

Omar rom daghbadebia

Memr mshoblis t’kbili alersi

 

Arodis ar mghisebia

Arts makhovs sakhe imati

 

Ar vitsi ra rigebia

Sitsotskhle momets’amlebis

 

Khan k’inagh gavgizhdebia

Chem khelit tavis mok’vlai

 

Ramdenjer mipikrebia

Mudam skhvat kheltad ts’akhedva

 

Ra ch’irad gavizrdebia

 

Ch’reli rat aris sopeli

Vpikrob ver gamigebia

 

Am kveqnad maints bevria

Mdidari gharibebia

 

Ramdenits ts’amovizarde

Tantan daberda mt’rebia

 

Rasats kveqana shvreboda

Qvela me dambralebia

 

K’iavots daisveneben

Ekhla khom davshordebia

 

Dideba shentvis upalo

Siaves ara vshrebia

 

Ar vitsi ras memdurian

Guldidad vazhk’atsebia

 

Zogtavit tvalqurobai

Me aros mik’adrebia

 

Kal-vazhi avis znisai

Akhlos ar mik’arvebia

 

Dachagrulebis dachagvra

Ertkhel ar mompikrebia

 

Mudam mts’qenia augi

Tu ra vis dauqmedia

 

Me arvis gamovktsevivor

K’i gaktseulan skhvebia

 

Chem gamo bidzashvilebsa

Sirtskhvil aravis zdebia

 

Chemad magivrad chem mt’erta

Khel arvis gaurevia

 

Taod mimitsav k’iseri

Tu ravin mt’rebi mrgebia

 

Bevr mts’are gamik’vnet’avis

Gul k’i ar gamit’ekhia

 

Sik’etes bevra minakhav

Mk’vekhrebzed k’idev met’ia

 

T’ialo ts’utisopelo, Gkhedav rom shaitsvlebia

 

Translation:

 

Orphanhood

 

Omar from Tusheti recites:

 

I will stay in Siberia

And bear the misfortune of families

Who have died and been forgotten

I have been exiled for twenty years

I am frozen far into the ice

Once a brave man,

Just twenty-five years of age

I have already grown grey

I was a mountain hunter but

Today it is hard for me to stand on my feet

It is very hard to be here –

You need much strength

Those Siberian bears are vigil, like wolves

Like my grandmother once said:

Orphans’ bread doesn’t bake.

 

My parents died when I was born

I never felt the sweet care of my parents

I don’t even remember their faces

My life has been poisoned and sometimes I go crazy

How many times have I thought of killing myself?

Whenever I look at others I wonder why I was born…

Why is the world in different colors?

I ponder and I don’t understand

How there are so many in our world, both rich and poor.

 

As I grow old, so do my enemies

I am blamed for the wrongs others have committed

Dear God -

I have never committed wrongs

I don’t know why they are against me, these proud people

I have never spied, like others have

I have never been close to a woman

I have never thought to oppress the oppressed

I have never tried to escape, like others have from me

How upset I was when they dared to reproach me

Thanks to me, my brother’s children have never been shamed

No one has fought my enemies for me

I have protected my own neck whenever I had to

I have not broken hearts, nor have I upset people

I have lived with kindness more than I have with boasting

 

Oh, You – You Brief Life!

I see you

In all the ways you have changed.

Mariam Gogoch'uri - Chven Gviqvars K'avk'asioni
+ Song Info

A ballad about the war heroes of Khevsureti, a highland in northeast Georgia.

+ Lyrics

Chven Gviqvars K’avk’asioni

Text: Ivane Ts’ik’lauri

(scroll down for English translation)

 

Chven gviqvars k’avk’asioni

Gmirebis namukhlaria

 

Aema mtat gulisatvina

Ts’qdebodes mam-p’ap’ania

 

Jach’v ver udzlebda bektari

Gmirt hkonda mk’lavis jania

 

Mudam mt’ris molodinesa

Ts’elt shaukhsnelad khmalia

 

Sul mzas jghani da ts’riap’i

Chokhis ubeshi paria

 

Khevsurt ar tkvian vazhebo

Sit’qva k’och’li da mtsdaria

 

Pir hkonda gaut’ekheli

Nabch’obi napikralia

 

Omshi uts’evlad diodes

Gmirt gaats’qvian jaria

 

Shin k’i ar imalebodes

Tkvian gvjoboian k’ania

 

Translation:

 

We Love the Caucasus Mountains

 

We love the Caucasus Mountains

The steps of heroes

 

Our ancestors fought

For the heart of these mountains

 

Wearing shirts of iron

The heroes had strong, healthy arms

 

They always were ready for enemies

They always had swords on them

 

Their cleats were always prepared

On the bosom of their chokha,1 a shield

 

You cannot say about the Khevsurs2

A word lame or false

 

They are steadfast

Their plans discussed, analyzed

 

They go to war

An army of heroes

 

They don’t hide at home, for they

Care not about the worth of their skin

 

1Part of a traditional male dress of the Caucasus. There are four versions of the garment within Georgia, and it is linked to a strong sense of national pride. Read more about the chokha here

 

2People from Khevsureti.

Mariam Gogoch'uri - Khevsuretze
+ Song Info

A patriotic song about the highland of Khevsureti, a highland in eastern Georgia.

 

 

+ Lyrics

Khevsuretze

Text: Gabriel Ch’inch’arauli

(scroll down for English translation)

 

Khevsurets miesalmeba

K’alami gamotsdilia

 

Sadats boinobs arts’ivi

Mkhrebs atamashebs gmiria

 

Ts’qaro chkebs qinuliani

Salik’ldit gadaghvrilia

 

Tsis varsk’vlav tavit qvavilni

Sit’urpit gasak’viria

 

Shurtkhi gahk’ivis ch’iukhta

Okros tma davartskhnilia

 

Lkhinobs bunebis surati

Mdis uk’vdavebis milia

 

Mtebi dgas chamts’k’rivebuli

T’ans mskhvili mkhargashlilia

 

Rogors st’alinis jarebi

Saubrad tavmaqrilia

 

Gachumebulan soplebi

Bevr dro akv gamovlilia

 

Khalkh akhsovs t’anabjriani

Mitkhos khmis mt’ekhi mziria

 

Sul ts’ukhad khirimt k’ukhili

Sidznele gadaqrilia

 

Khavsmak’idebul tsikheta

Libu ar mt’quvnobs dziria

 

Khavsmak’idebul tsikheta

Libu ar mt’quvnobs dziria

 

Masts’onda m’qviat karshkhali

Gul mk’erdit gamatvlilia

 

Chardakhianem k’edlebma

Topit itsodes lkhinia

 

Shvidn ch’ekdes goza rkianni

Dzvals k’vetda khmlebis p’iria

 

Jghreda qudvilebs parebsa

Gmins uqveboda gminia

 

Khelshi tsvdebodes k’irgorni

Dro hkonda gasach’iria

 

Tskhoneba khevsurt gmirebsa

Mits’a rom ak’rav grilia

 

Zog tu ts’evs gulsiskhliani

Zog khel-pekh gadach’rilia

 

Aghar zhghers imat abjari

Adgas kva mits’is chrdilia

 

Sjobs rom ar nakhan mzis shuki

Kveqana gardakmnilia

 

Arts imas vadzlevt p’at’ivsa

Vints saamaqo shvilia

 

Tem-soplis gamosadegi

Svindisit amozdilia

 

Mt’erstan gmirulad damakhvedri

Lomi k’mil gagershilia

 

K’arg vazhi k’argi kal-rdzali

Vinats qvelaprit srulia

 

Mamgondas gamikhardeba

Guls ek’urneba ts’qlulia

 

Taqvans stsems chemi k’alami

Kebas mk’arnakhobs gulia

 

Translation:

 

Khevsureti

 

Greetings to Khevsureti

My pen if proficient for you

 

Where the eagle reigns

Playing on the hero’s shoulder

 

The spring runs icy

Purified by the rocks

 

Like the sky’s stars, like flowers

Surprised by their own beauty

 

The snowcock cries to the gorge

Its golden hair combed

 

Nature celebrates

In a moment of immortality

 

The mountains stand in a row

Thick-bodied, broad-shouldered

 

Formidable

Like the armies of Stalin

 

Villages are silenced

So much time has passed

 

Forever troubled,

Difficulties have dissipated

 

The moss-covered castle

Protected and safe

 

It enjoyed the storm of bullets

That lashed its breast

 

These shadowy walls

Know both war and peace

 

There was thunder

Bones slashed by the tongue of swords

 

Flocks, all in a row

The moaning voices of sheep

 

Faded in the hands of the limestone hills

Time has had it difficult

 

Khevsur heroes must be remembered

Those who have turned over the cool earth

 

Some lie with bloody hearts

Some have wounded arms and legs

 

There is no longer the sound of armor

A rock stands in the shadow of the earth’s shade

 

It is better not to see the light of the sun

Because the world has transformed

 

And those glorious sons –

Don't get paid their due respect

 

Those who were meant for village life

And were raised well

 

Good fighters against the enemies

Lions with wild tears

 

Good young men, good young women

Perfect, absolute in every way

 

It would make me happy to remember

It would be medicine for my poor heart

 

I adore my pen

As my heart sings these praises.