You just die, – you just pass away, <br />And it’ll be all right, OK… <br />Your wife will read the Psalms <br />In a soft voice and prey. <br />She’ll weep a little and lament, <br />She’ll wear mourning dresses and fret, <br />And whisper to the dearest <br />Daughters and sons: <br />“My kids, your father <br />Has turned to dust…” <br />You just die, – you just depart, <br />And it’ll be OK… it’ll be all right. <br />The violets and the snowdrops <br />Will wipe out the winter, <br />The tiny bird will weave <br />Passion with twitter, <br />And the breeze <br />Will sing night’s tale to the leaves… <br />The widow will look in the mirror, <br />And take a pencil in her hand… <br />No make-up is needed, you know, <br />For a rose drooping her head… <br />She may notice your gaze, – <br />The zeal heavy with years, <br />She may see the sham <br />Mirrored in your eyes… <br />Then she’ll smile… and shed tears… <br />You’ll pity her and think <br />You’d better stay with her, <br />You’d better look <br />After the cornfield of your desire… <br />You’d better work with all your heart, <br />And reap what you have sown… <br />And let your beautiful wife <br />Be a violet to you… or a rose… <br /> <br />17.01.2003 <br /> <br />Translated from Georgian<br /><br />Janri Gogeshvili<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-drooping-rose-needs-no-make-up/
