My Heart's the Black Sea

Georgian version here

My Heart’s the Black Sea

I was travelling, night approaching,
The sea showed me its gardens.
—Shota Rustaveli

My heart’s the Black Sea leaning on
and beating on Adjaran slopes.
The furious storms I’ve undergone:
let them miss your placid boats.

And though the others cannot tell,
Your pine and fir will understand
that I’m not carved from mud or shale,
but made of doubt and faith: a man.

As such, I’ll suffer what may come:
Thirst, thunderstorm or freezing rain,
As long as, with the rising dawn
one hope has light enough to shine.

I’ll suffer every obstacle —
each prison cell, each bitter slight,
As long as I can still see well
enough to know my country’s plight.

The darkest taste of loneliness,
the saddest unbefriended state:
I’ll suffer all, as long as I
can see my country’s shining light.