Poem
Shota Iatashvili
THE AVIATOR
He flew off and turned out to be right:They praised him, blessed him, bent his neck down.
He flew off again, and again turned out to be right:
They gave him a reception and didn’t grudge him bread, water and
A comb for his wing and plumage.
He flew off a third time and this time, too, he turned out to be right:
They put up with him, tolerated him.
He flew off a fourth time and turned out to be in the wrong:
They called him a silly plagiarizer of an angel.
But he still flew off a fifth time –
They fired at him,
They killed him.
© Translation: 2007, Donald Rayfield
DE VLIEGER
Hij vloog en bleek gelijk te hebben:hij werd geprezen, gezegend, ze bogen zijn hoofd voor hem.
Hij vloog een tweede keer en bleek weer gelijk te hebben:
hij werd aanvaard en ze schonken hem brood, water
en een kam voor de veren van zijn vleugels.
Hij vloog een derde keer en ook deze keer bleek hij gelijk te hebben:
hij werd in hun midden opgenomen, ze verzoenden zich met hem.
Hij vloog een vierde keer en bleek zich te vergissen:
ze noemden hem een zielige plagiator van een engel.
Toch vloog hij een vijfde keer
en ze schoten hem neer,
maakten hem af.
© Vertaling: 2007, Ingrid Degraeve
მფრინავი
© 2004, Shota Iatashvili
From: pankari tsasji (‘Pencil in the Air ’)
Publisher: Caucasian House, Tbilisi
From: pankari tsasji (‘Pencil in the Air ’)
Publisher: Caucasian House, Tbilisi
Poems
Poems of Shota Iatashvili
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THE AVIATOR
He flew off and turned out to be right:They praised him, blessed him, bent his neck down.
He flew off again, and again turned out to be right:
They gave him a reception and didn’t grudge him bread, water and
A comb for his wing and plumage.
He flew off a third time and this time, too, he turned out to be right:
They put up with him, tolerated him.
He flew off a fourth time and turned out to be in the wrong:
They called him a silly plagiarizer of an angel.
But he still flew off a fifth time –
They fired at him,
They killed him.
© 2007, Donald Rayfield
From: pankari tsasji (‘Pencil in the Air ’)
From: pankari tsasji (‘Pencil in the Air ’)
THE AVIATOR
He flew off and turned out to be right:They praised him, blessed him, bent his neck down.
He flew off again, and again turned out to be right:
They gave him a reception and didn’t grudge him bread, water and
A comb for his wing and plumage.
He flew off a third time and this time, too, he turned out to be right:
They put up with him, tolerated him.
He flew off a fourth time and turned out to be in the wrong:
They called him a silly plagiarizer of an angel.
But he still flew off a fifth time –
They fired at him,
They killed him.
© 2007, Donald Rayfield
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