пятница, 14 марта 2008 г.

დალი გოგეშვილი-იოდიშიენე _ Dali Gogeshvili-Iodishiene...

ქართველთა სათვისტომო


*
დალი გოგეშვილი-იოდიშიენე
Dali Gogeshvili-Iodishiene

Dali Gogeshvili-Iodishiene
1939-2001


ATGIMIMAS
(აღორძინება)

LIETUVOS PERSITVARKYMO SAJUDZIO INFORMACINIS BIULETENIS
(ლიტვის გარდაქმნის საიუდის საინფორმაციო ბიულეტენი)
Nr.15 (28) 1989 m. balandzio 14 d.

KRUVINASIS SEKMADIENIS GRUZIJOJE
სისხლიანი კვირა საქართველოში


Mes, Lietuvos gruzinal,
Dekojame likimo bpoliams
Lietuviams, uzjautuslems
Sunkia musu Tauta.
Mes uz laisva Lietuva
Ir uz laisva Gruzija.
Mes protestuojame pries
Balandzio 9-osios kruvi-
Naji sekmadienj.
Tegul Vilniaus gatves
Niekada nepajunta “demo-
Kratija nesaneiu” tanku
Svorio, o gyventojai _
“brolisko” baudeju de-
mesio!

Lietuvos gruzinu vardu
D. Gogesvili-Juodisiene,
Zumaliste, verteja

ჩვენ ლიტვის ქართველები
მადლობას ვუხდით ბედის
თანამონაწილე ლიტველებს
მძიმე წუთებში ჩვენი ერის
თანაგრძნობისათვის.
ჩვენ მხარს ვუჭერთ ლიტვისა
და საქართველოს თავისუფლებას,
პროტესტს ვაცხადებთ, 9-აპრილის
სისხლიანი კვირის წინააღმდეგ.
დაე, ვილნიუსის ქუჩებს არასოდეს
გამოეცადოს ”დემოკრატიის მომტანი”
ტანკების წონა, ხოლო მის მცხოვრებლებს _
”ძმური” დამსჯელთა ყურადღება!


ლიტვის ქართველთა სახელით
დ. გოგეშვილი-იოდიშიენე.
ჟურნალისტი, მთარგმნელი



საქართველოს ქალი
….ყოველთვიური საზოგადოებრივ-პოლიტიკური
და მხატვრულ-ლიტერატურული ჟურნალი
1989

ქართველთა სათვისტომო

დალი გოგეშვილი-იოდიშიენე თბილისის სახელმწიფო უნივერსიტეტის ჟურნალისტიკის ფაკულტეტრის მე-4 კურსის სტუდენტი იყო, როცა მოსწყდა მშობლიურ მხარეს და ლიტვაში გაჰყვა თავის საბედოს. მაგრამ სამშობლოს უსაზღვროდ მოყვარულმა ქალმა ვერ დაივიწყა მზიური საქართველო და გადაწყვიტა მთელი თავისი სიცოცხლე, შემოქმედებითი მოღვაწეობა ლიტვა-საქართველოს კულტურული ურთიერთობების განვითარებისთვის, ამ ორი ქვეყნის სულიერი მეგობრობისათვის მოეხმარა:
ახალგაზრდა ქალმა თერთმეტ თვეში შეისწავლა ლიტვური ენა და უზადოდ, მაღალ პროფესიულ დონეზე მიჰყავდა რადიოგადაცემემბი ლიტვურად. ქალბატონმა დალიმ ხელი მოჰკიდა მთარგმნელობით მუშაობასაც. მან ქართულიდან თარგმნა გურამ ფანჯიკიძის რომანი ”მეშვიდე ცა”. ამას მოჰყვა ცნობილი ქართველი მწერლების გურამ დოჩანაშვილის, ოტია იოსელიანის, სერგო კლდიაშვილისა და სხვათა ნაწარმოებები (სულ 39 ავტორი). ამ თარგმანებმა ლიტველი მკითხველების დიდი მოწონება დაიმსახურა.
თავისი დაუღალავი შრომით რადიოში თუ ჟურნალ-გაზეთებში ქალბატონმა დალიმ მალე გაითქვა სახელი და საქართველოს პოპულარიზაციისათვის დაიმსახურა კიდეც ლიტვის რადიოპროგრამების პრიზი ”საბჭოთა საქართველოში სამოგზაუროდ”.

”ივერია”
ლიტვაში


ჯერ კიდევ 1971-1972 წლებში ლიტვაში, ქალაქ ვილნიუსში მცხოვრებ დალი გოგეშვილის სახლში ჩაეყარა საფუძველი ლიტვა-საქართველოს კულტურულ ცენტრს. ლიტვური პოეზიის გაზაფხულში მონაწილეობა მიიღეს დალის ინიციატივით მოწვეულმა ქართველმა მწერლებმა _არჩილ სულაკაურმა, ჯანსუღ ჩარკვიანმა, მორის ფოცხიშვილმა…
_დღეისათვის ჩვენი კონტაქტები კიდევ უფრო გაიზარდა,_ აღნიშნავს ქალბატონი დალი,_ ლიტვის ხშირი სტუმარია ქალბატონი ლიანა ისაკაძე, სხვადასხვა დროს სტუმრად სწვევიან მას ნოდარ ანდღულაძე, ზურაბ სოტკილავა, თვითმოქმედი კოლექტივები. ლიტველების დიდი ინტერესი და აღფრთოვანება გამოიწვია თუმანიშვილის თეტრის სტუმრობამაც. დიდი წარმატებით ჩაუვლია ქართული თეტრის სპექტაკლებს გოგი ქავთარიძისა და გიზო ზარნაძის რეჟისორობით. რა თქმა უნდა, ვილნიუსში მცხოვრები ქართველებისათვის თვისტომთა სტუმრობა ყოველთვის დიდი სიხარულის მომგვრელი იყო.
ლიტვა-საქართველოს შორის მჭიდრო ურთიერთობის დამყარებაში დიდი წვლილი მიუძღვის ფოტოჟურნალისტს ალგიმანტას ჟიჟიუნასს, რომელიც მრავალი წლის განმავლობაში მუშაობდა ამ თემაზე და მთელი კართოტეკა შექმნა ვილნიუსში მყოფი ქართველებისა, რასაც, ალბათ, მალე ვიხილავთ ბატონ ალგიმანტასის წიგნში ”ქართველები ვილნიუსში”
თბილისის 1989 წლის 9 აპრილის ტრაგედიამ შესძრა ლიტველ ქართველთა გულებიც. რის შედეგადაც ვილნიუსში მცხოვრებმა 38-მა ქართველმა შექმნა სათვისტომო _ ”ივერია”. მას სათავეში ჩაუდგა და მისი პრეზიდენტი გახდა დალი გოგეშვილი. თვითონ ქალბატონი დალი სათვისტომოს დაარსების შესახებ ამბობს; ”მისი შექმნა გამოიწვია ჩვენი გოგონებისა და დედების მიმართ მოწყობილმა იმ გენოციდმა, რომელმაც არა მარტო ლიტველები, არამედ მთელი მსოფლიო აღაშფოთა”.
აღსანიშნავია ისიც, რომ აპრილის იმ საშინელ დღეს დაღუპულ ქართველთა ხსოვნის უკვდავსაყოფად ვილნიუსელმა ქართველებმა ზურაბ ჯავახიშვილმა, სერგო ამირგულაშვილმა და პირადად ქალბატონმა დალიმ საკუთარი ხელით შეკრეს საქართველოს სამფეროვანი დროშა, რომელიც ვილნიუსის კათედრალურ ტაძარში მონსინიორ კაზიმიერას ვალიდაუსკასმა აკურთხა.
9 აპრილის ტრაგედიის სიმწარემ შეამჭიდროვა ვილნიუსელი ქართველობა, რომლებმაც ლიტველ ხალხთან ერთად დაიწყეს ბრძოლა ეროვნული დამოუკიდებლობის მოსაპოვებლად, რადგანაც ლიტველები მათ საქართველოს ერთ-ერთ ახლო მეგობრებად მიაჩნიათ.
ლიტვა-საქართველოს კულტურულ დაახლოებაში, ამ ორი ქვეყნის ხალხთა მეგობრობაში ხედავენ უმთავრეს ამოცანას სათვისტომოს ქართველები. დღეისთვის უმაღლეს წერტილს მიაღწია ამ კულტურულმა ურთიერთობებმა:
მთავრობასთან შეიქმნა მცირერიცხოვანი ერების წარმომადგენელთა დეპარტამენტი, რომელშიც გაერთიანდნენ ვილნიუსის ტერიტორიაზე მცხოვრები საქართველოს, უკრაინის, ისრაელის, მოლდავეთის, ესტონეთის, ლატვიის წარმომადგენლობები. ისინი მხარს უჭერენ ლიტველი ხალხის მისწრაფებას ეროვნული დამოუკიდებლობისკენ _ ”საიუდისის” _სახალხო მოძრაობას.
ხოლო თვითონ ქალბატონი დალი, ქართველთა სათვისტომოს პრეზიდენტი, ამ წამოწყებაში ხედავს დამოუკიდებელი საქართველოს საელჩოს ჩანასახს.

თამარ ნინიძე


ახალგაზრდა კომუნისტი
4 მაისი, 1976 წელი…

ჩურლიონისის
ქვეყანაში


ნიგოითის შუკა
ვილნიუსში


მცირე ამონაკრები ცნობილი პოეტისა და ჟურნალისტის ნანა ღვინეფაძის წერილიდან…

…პროსპექტიდან თაღის ქვეშ შეუხვია, დალის სახლამდე სულ მცირე მანძილი იყო. ”აი, ამ პაწია გზას ნიგოითის შუკა დავარქვი”, _ღიმილით მეუბნებოდა დალი. სახლში მისი მეუღლე იონასი და პატარა ვაჟი დაგვხვდნენ. წიგნებით სავსე ოთახს აშუქებდა იონასის ნახელავი ტორშერი, რომელიც რაღაცით რობოტსაც და რომელიღაც აფრიკული ტომის ღმერთსაც წააგავდა. მოჩანდა თუთის ხეში გამოკვეთილი ულვაშა, ყაბალახიანი გურული ჩიბუხით ხელში.
-ესეც იონასის ნახელავია,-მითხრა დალიმ.
….
იონასი გაზეთებს მაწვდის. ლანჩხუთის რაიონული გაზეთი ”კომუნისტური შრომა” და ანიკშჩაის რაიონული გაზეთი. ეს გაზეთები ორი რაიონის, ორი რესპუბლიკის მეგობრობაზე მოგვითხრობენ. კეთილი მეგზური კი, ვინც ორი რაიო
ნის მშრომელები ერთმანეთით დააინტერესა, _დალი გოგეშვილი-იოდიშიენეა, რაიონულ გაზეთებს ლიტერატურული წრეების მასალებიც გაუცვლიათ.
…..
ვუყურებ დალის და ვფიქრობ მის დიდ ვალზე, ვფიქრობ ორი ხალხის ძმობასა და სიყვარულზე. ეს უთუოდ დიდი საქმეა. ალბათ, სწორედ ამიტომაა, რომ დალის პატივს სცემენ, მასზე გულთბილად ლაპარაკობენ ლიტველები.
სახლიდან გამოსულებს, შემოდგომის ქარი შეგვეგება. ნიგოითის შუკას მთვარე დასცქეროდა.



ჰქონდათ სურნელი რწმენის სადარი…

ლიტველების სტუმრობა გურიაში, 1971წ.

(ესეი ლექსად…)

ერთხელ, ზაფხულში, ყმაწვილობის ჟამს,

ტყე-ღრე წვალებით, შეთქმულის ჟინით,

თითქოს მივსდევდი წინაპრის ჩუმ კვალს,

გზნებით ვატარე სხვა ქვეყნის შვილნი…

გამორჩეულნი გრძნობათა ფარვით

ერთი მსუქანი, ერთიც პირხმელი…

დისიდენტური კვლევით და სწრაფვით,

მედგრად იწევდა ორი ლიტველი…

ერთს მეამბოხის ჰქონდა სახელი

და ციხეებში იყო ნატანჯი

იმპერიული გათვალა-არგათვლის,

მას სიძულვილი ჰქონდა ათასგზის…

და მივიწევდით მთისაკენ მაღლა,

სადაც მლოცველი დიოდა მალვით,

გზას გვიღობავდა ტოტების ფარდა,

გვეძალებოდა წინაპრის ვალი…

და როს ვიხილეთ მონასტრის ეზო,

მწვანე მინდორი ნასათუთარი,

სწრაფვისა ჩვენის ვიგრძენით გემო,

კრძალვით გვიცქერდა მხცოვანი ქალი…

ნატიფად ნაგებ ტაძრის კედელთან,

იდგა მოწესე მშვიდი, ფერმკრთალი,

”მშვიდობა თქვენდა!” მიგვიღო წრფელად,

ისმინა სიტყვა ჩემში ნამაჭრი…

ნაჯაფი ხელი შემახო ხელთან,

მითხრა: სტუმრისა მეც ვიცი ყადრი,

ოთხი წლის ვიყავ, რომ მერგო ხილვა,

ამა საყდრის და ამა სავანის…

მას შემდეგ აქ ვარ, არსად გავსულვარ,

არ მიძებნია სხვა ბინა არსით,

არადა უკვე ასს წელს ვასრულებ,

ვფიქრობ ჰაემდე გავლიე ხანი…

ოღონდ იმასღა ვდარდობ და ვნანობ,

რომ არ გამოჩნდა ერთი მორჩილიც,

რომ მონასტერი, ესე სავანე

არ შერჩეს ტყე-ღრეს ხავსით მოსილი…

მერე წაგვიძღვა, შემოგვატარა

საფლავის ქვები, დათა სამარხნი,

ერთგან ილოცა და თან გვახარა

აღმშენებელი იყო ამ ტაძრის…

ბოლოს ახსენა კათოლიკთ წესი,

ლოცვისა ნირი, ქცევა ტაძარში…

აუწყა სტუმართ ”პაპისა” მრწამსი,

და განსხვავება პირჯვრისწერაში…

აქ ლიტველსაც კი დაეტყო განცდა,

შეიხსნა ჯვარი მკერდთან ნაფერი,

მიართვა მოხუცს, სთხოვა დალოცვა,

მოდრიკა თავი ნაციმბირალი…

ჯვარზე გაკრული ქრისტეს სახება

მოექცა ქალის მადლმოსილ ხელში,

სანთლების დარად მოჩინარ თითებს,

ჰქონდათ სურნელი რწმენის სადარი…

24.05.2006



THAT FRAGRANCE
RESEMBLED FAITH

The Lithuanians’ visit (1971)
An essay in a verse


Once, in springtime, in my youth,
I led them through forests and caves,
Tracing the paths of my forefathers,
The paths of my native place.

Two Lithuanians, two “quiet rebels, ”
One – a bit fleshy, the other – lean…
I led them through forests and caves,
And they willingly followed me.

One of them was a true rioter,
Imprisoned not once, not twice…
He was filled with the hate for the “Empire, ”
His heart was turned into ice.

We quietly labored up the hillside,
The curtain of boughs barred the way;
Believers went there stealthily,
But my “debts” I had to pay…

And when we beheld the monastery,
Its yard – a nice green lawn,
We saw our labor was rewarded…
An old woman stood at the door.

She looked at us with respect,
That woman – so pale and wan.
She gave us a hearty welcome,
I told her about those men.

She touched me with her wrinkled hand,
She said she was glad to see the guests.
The woman was aged, very old;
Here is the story she told:

“When I first saw this monastery,
I was only four years old.
Since then, I’ve lived here, my son,
I’ve never sought other abode.

Now I’m hundred, and I still breathe,
But I’m troubled by the only thought:
No one comes to guard this monastery,
Soon it’ll be covered with moss.

She showed us the graves of the sisters,
The tombstones – cherished and old.
She prayed, and told us humbly
She’d done a lot for that House of God.

Then she spoke about Catholicism,
About its teaching and beliefs,
And explained to the Lithuanian guests,
How an Orthodox crosses himself.

The rioter was moved to tears,
His treasured cross to her he gave,
Asked her to bless it, and then
Bowed his proud head with awe…

In her blessed hands shimmered
The icon of the Crucified Christ…
And her fingers, resembling candles,
Had a fragrance of Faith and Trust.

24.O5.2OO6

Translated from Georgian

Janri Gogeshvili

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среда, 13 февраля 2008 г.

Информация на русском языке


Джанри Гогешвили

ИЗ СНОВИДЕНИЯ В ЯВЬ
Поэзия


Вселенная, зримый и незримый мир… Вера, человеколюбие, родина, преданность, коварство, долг… К этим или иным, подобным понятиям каждого творца свое отношение…
Истинного читателя увлекают и захватывают развивающиеся на уровне чутья, экспрессия, любовная интрига, ирония, сатира, пафос…
Рассказанное же языком притчи напоминает интерпретации…
____

Хоть внешне ты похож на Отшелника,
На не знакомого собеседника…

ты боришся со своим телом,
хочешь закалить желание,
быть ловким и перевоплотится,
Измученной душе дать отпушение.

Ты боришся со своим телом,
Стараешся быть во всём терпимим,
Стоицизм втаком водовороте,
Вес спектр обхвотил необхвотими.

Ты не одинок, ты семеришся…
Ты ещё больше, ты есть воиска…
Но восприятия к себе великого,
Жаль не доходит к тебе и близко.

Ты борышся со своим телом,
Мечта мужчины бывает смелим,
Хоть внешне ты похож на отшельника,
Всё равно добиваешся своей цели!
====

Старая птичка

Старая птичка всё ровно птица,
По птичи гордо в стречает россвет,
Как птица, приг-приг веселится,
Стораится у ветра струны задеть.

И поёт она от полной груди,
Хочит розбудить первое пение,
А молодняк норовится чудить,
Пением с небес принять крешенье.

Сторая птичка не чувствует старость
И у других об етом догадок нет,
Но часто при пение ноты пропуская,
Под утром, дремля встречает россвет.


====

Опустившая голову роза…

Ты только умри! _
Всё поидёт на лад,
Жена псалмоны читая,
Нежной молитвой проводит закат…
Оденится в чёрное, поплачет
И позавёт детей к себе,
Наклонется к ним и скажет:
-«Не стала отца у вас теперь!»
Ты только умри!_
Всё пойдёт на лад,
Цветы взойдут на магиле
И зима розвеится как прах,
Птичка лаского черикая,
Пением завяжет любовь,
Листвой ветер потпивая,
Роскажет сказку в тиши глухом…
И у зеркала, держа корондаш,
Кросоты ты зохотела лишнюю дозу,
Зачем красками рисовать,
Опустившую голову розу?
Заметила в отражение взор_
Намерения прошедших лет,
С глубины глаз отзеркалье
Токих увёрток у других нет!
Она улыбнулась и вдруг
Слёзы хлинули рекой,
Ты пожалел её и сказал:
«Лучше останус с тобой!»
Чтоб сомому утруждат,
Чтоб сомому пожинать,
Все Желания посеевшися на поле,
Как раньше сомому утруждать,
К тебе же к лицу и тем боле
И жена красавица, для тебя,
Пускай росцветаёт без боли!

====

Сладостная тоска

Ех, романтика осталос в прошлом,
Читатель нынчн немощ, слаб,
Никаких доходов, живётся тошно,
Шяс в клубах в модн комедин-клуб.

Афоризмами жил и питался,
Других привлекало учонная мисиа,
Женщина любил и он здался,
Варвался к ней в дом, ни капризнича.

Перетусовалось колода карт,
Пиковая масть вирвалось на ружу,
Сладостная тоска осталось в сласть,
А безсоница раздирало душу.

И мир предал его, жизненны ритм
Не сумел вичислить, было плевать,
А любимая не смогла с ним жить,
Улица стало для него как наставница.

Он стал обузой, не кому не нужен,
И жил в рассрочку, как бы для других,
Надеждой дети с дружат,
Читател нинче немощен и затих…

Женщина пела аш в ночном баре,
Склонность к етому уже талант,
А её тело многих жигала,
Не всегда в шоубизнесе всё идёт на лад.

Он умер и ему звании читател,
Горько свершилос мисиа «Мцири»,
Из книжных полок гроб соорудили,
А книжки по дому долго слезились.
----

Перевод грузинского Нугзара Бакурадзе

Джанри Гогешвили
______
======
Вариация сообразно предисловию

«АВТОРЕФЕРАТ»

Словно бы изученный и всё же непознанный мир… любовь, родина, преданность и измена… Искренность, лицемерие, успешный «виртуоз» по части демагогии и понесший наказание за верность родине, сын отечества…

Безысходность сковала землю,
Стон стоял, всё вокруг гудело…
Не стану продолжат, за последние годы множество испытаний выпало на долю каждого из нас.
На диске моего компьютера хранятся описанные детьми эпизоды вторжений и погромов… Авторы, в основном дети или или близкие беженцев или переселенцев. Некоторым из них было бы по два, по три года тогда, когда большая часть грузин было изгнаны с родной земли _ Абхазии и Самачабло. Многие родились уже позднее… Подростки большею частью опираются на рассказы своих близких, однако в фактах и оценках их ощущается острая боль, которую они испытывают. Память, душу и кровь этой поросли терзает боль, оставленная теми страшними днями… (Материалы были собраны одной неправительственной организациой и ко мне обратились с просьбой редактировать их.) Читая факты, описанные детьми, трудно сдержать слёзы. По сравнению с теми ужасами, моя тревога по поводу иного факта, покажется вам, возможно, незначительной, однако одна, вроде бы привычная для сегодняшней Грузии история, расстроила меня не на шутку.
Несколько лет назад я посетил родную деревню (сейчас там разваливается оставленный без присмотра мой отчий дом… Хоть местность эта и не принадлежит ни Абхазии, ни Самачабло), меня потянуло к тому месту, где на первом этаже сельского клуба распологалась библиотека… придя туда я был совершенно потрясен увиденным. Всё здесь было изгрызано и осквернено. Особенно, как видно, тут разгулялись свиньи.
Там, где когда-то были полки, сплошь заставленные книгами, со страниц которых исходил аромат таинственности, романтических мечтаний и заветных чаяний, сейчас, словно, поселилась беспросветная мгла…
Мы можем просто промолвить, мол, что поделаешь, не то что книги, а… и лишь вздохнуть многозначительно.
В одном из своих эссе я не без гордости отмечаю:
Книга, как обожаемая, зоботливо-своенравная родительница, руководила мной, как ей заблагорассудится… Подобная мисль, безусловно, прсещала многих избранных читателей и каждый из них ощутил изначально запечатленную в сознании жгучую сладость тех приключенческих книг, романтическая привлекательность которых по сей день прекрасным видением соправаждает духовный мир человека… Подобной же боли предшествует выброс зла, скрытого в подсознании, то есть роковая преображённость и разгул выродившихся людей…
Человек способен с удивительной любовью и самоотверженностью созидать, а также ужасающей ненавистью уничтожать…

Кто где воевал,
Кто где остался,
Спасая других…
Да, Грузинам часто вредил, отделившийся от рода своего, их же соответственный ген. Волею превратной судьбы или из-за непомерных амбиций став на службу чужой страны эти вымуштрованные карателями люди, не раз подвергали погромам родные края.
А потом уже, спустия годы, правнуки их и вовсе не помнили своё происхождения, однако по зову крови, подсознательно или генетически тянулись к истокам, вспоминали и в те же время не могли их вспомнить и, озлобившись, пытались доказать свое превосходство. Есть у нас и более современные и простые примеры. Осмотришься и… Зачастую и у фамилии встречается знакомое звучание, но, ослеплённыи страстью к наживе и выгоде, он начинает вырождаться присваивать жилище с обратьев…
Эти строки, возможно, настроят вас на соответствующий лад:
…Кому__то сеичас досталось наследство,
Что тебя утомило и не пощадило…
Поэтому вместе со всеми благами просвещения юношеская душа должна проникнуться поэзией народности…
Хотя для подобной отваги в сегодняшнем «преимущественно прагматичном» быту и, впрямь, требуется достойная преданность… Случается и такое:

Он всё оставил, затерялся
И только родину за пазухой унёс с собой…
Последняя строфа лейтмотивом соправаждает написанный тридцать лет назад один из моих романов, «окружённый вниманием» черных рецензетов тогдашнего режима.
Название романа «Бодрстующий ночами» осталось звучанием ноты в окружающем мире… История, как всегда, повторяется, однако, причины вызывающие подобные действия сейчас более просты и понятны…
Искреннее поэтическое видение помогает возвыситься над повседневностью…
А то формируемое жизнью сознание многих наводит тебя на мисль, что затерявшись целенаправленно созданном другими переполохе, ты своей упрямой проеданностью не смог ничего сделать ни для родной земли и ни для близких…

Простите меня, если только
Отчизна печаль…
«А ты как думал»…_злоларствует завистник.
Настоящее же, словно задиристый парень, подмигнёт тебе.

Ты лишь умри,
И всё будет прекрасно…
Только не надо утверждать, будто речь тут идет об условностях супружеских взаимоотношений… Впрочем, время аллегорий уже прошло… Все это скорее напоминает завуалированныи парпадокс… Главное то, что человек этот, оказывается, не умирает ни для семьи своей, ни для родины и ни для мыслительного пространства и многозначительно нам сообщает:

Обошли нас, как им казалось,
Ведь идём мы из глуби небесной…
Нет, автор и не думает вызивать к себе жалость… Правда, как и известно, тому или иному творцу зачастую доводиться жить и творить в совершенно неприемлемых для него времени и среде… Но, он сначала же не примирялся с тем, чтобы быть «обойдённым» подобным образом… Однако и салиям не уподоблялся… Но исцелять недуг или отражать нападки используя «немыслимые трюки» ему все таки, независимо от себя, приходилось…

«Разума» отринуть под силу разумному,
Образом чыстим душа заслоняется,
Провидцу, в устремлениях скрытному,
Во имя Христа безумному _ многие лета!
И сейчас он, в своем роде, даже адаптировался к подобным каверзам… поскольку те, которые умаляя заслуги других, изловчались отыскать брод, в новых условях (шоу_бизнесс зачастую связан с риском) уже начали оттеснять друг друга… И многие из них ради спасения своей утробы или шкуры готовы смести не только своего вчерашнего сотрапезника, но и весь свет…
Спелая дыня слюной растаяла
Во сне у беременной женщины,
Молодец удаль утратил свою,
У орла коршун небо оспаривает…
Перья, пучком торчащие
Украшают мозги политпроститутки…
Всё это «переливание из пустого в порожнее»,
Долдонит лиса мне у селища…
Тут автор попросив прощения у Всевышнего, не изменят ни думам своим ни мечтам…

А мечта расцветает и в стихе распускается…
Ну и что из того, если он порой, со свойстенной человеку прямотой, клянет эту жизнь, хоть и признает, что…

У невидимо избранного
Стоял космический дом…
Но ему хорошо известно:

Мышца есть все-таки мышца,
Накачанный мишцами волнуется мир…
И, обращаясь к себе самому и собратьям, призывает:

Воздадим должное дарованному благу _ внутреннему порядку…
Поскольку известно, что любовь может принести спасение, может и стать западней… Помимо влечения, именуемого страстью, существует ещё и слепая любовь к превращенному в кумир, образу… который порой обьединяет людей во благе, чаще же ведет их к пропасти…
И, как сказано в предисловии к журналу, «Образные мотивации» так и в этом поэтическом сборнике процесс поиска и исследования наблюдается часто: «окраска» характера, поступков или определяемых причин, метаморфоза образов и выявление психологических силуэтов… Слияние тематических мотивов с отступлениями… Составление и противопоставление мнений, образные примеры мотиваций… Сатирические доказательства и аргументы… Предвидения художественной фантазией… Бодрость и мыслительный порядок содержащие сентеции…
Рассуждая таким образом, нам, видимо, следует признать и то, что автору часто приходило в голову, что его произведения: романы, рассказы, пьесы, сказки смогли бы занять достойное место в кинематографе. В юности он и сам стремился, овладеть профессией кинорежиссера. Он даже сдавал на факультет кинорежиссуры, открытыи в то время в Грузии и где после собесодования, к экзаменам допускался лишь определённый, строго ограниченный контингент. Собеседование его закончилось стычкой с экзаменаторам и это возбудило в нем подозрение, будто от него просто отделались… Но, как выяснилось позднее, в списках допущенных к экзаменам его фамилия значилась… Однако, когда он узнал об этом было уже поздно…
Воображение же вновь не приемлет реальности и его избранные стихи, вошедшие в поэтический сборник представляются ему в виде насыщенных эффектами киноновел…Что ж, посмотрим, Может, невзирая на фактор времени, ещё состоится его «кинодебют»… Словом обычный для других и даже надоевший им труд сделался для него в силу сложившихся обстоятельств, недосягаемым…

Во сне я набрёл на прекрасный город,
Мне послышался шепот:
Останься здесь и сможешь летать, как прежде,
Твори здесь музыку, здесь твоя будет родина.
Здесь ждёт тебя слава и бесконечная радость…
Но не смог я,
В яви оставил я слово верности…
Однако подобная верность в глазах многих стала символом «неудачника»… Хотя:

Ведь путается верности и вероломство,
И познания упрямца следует отряхнуть…
И если кому-то покажется, что всё это имеет мало общего с поезией, то…

Кто-то призиывает, мол, избавьт
У того человека коготь!
Да усилится в стихах его
Отчизна родная…
И раскроет глаза
В лучах солнца
Своенравная мысль _
Люди мир познают
В таком ритме…
Это так, для настроения… Безусловно лучше Было Бы перечитать ещё раз мировые образцы ритмической речи…
И как уже я отметил однажды: нацеленные на восприятие эзотерической мудрости мистерии, так же заслуживают тепла и любви, как требуют усовершенствования, и выстраивания в действенныие правила в мыслительном пространстве сохранившиеся в виде недействующих, догм взгляды…
Творцу ведь при подержке небесных сил удаётся довериться «образной белизне» …поскольку подобные мыслительные мистерии преданный проводник к познанию будущего…
…Приветствую фиалковую расу
Струящуюся из-за поднебесья…
…Господь ведь всегда снами, слух его непрерывно направлен к нам… К тому же незримое единство людей «разумных и советливых» было вмире всегда и поскольку и небо и земля и вселенная в целом это _ отечество каждого из нас, нам следует оттачивать и углублять умение к сосуществованию…
… Каждый строит себе храм для молитвы,
Кто на вершине, а кто в долине…
Кто-то в собственной плоти украшает пустыню,
Кто-то под сводом небесным сметывает мечту…
Читатель может развить эту мысль, может решить сам для себя, где и как ему реально или символически строить храм… Попытаемся наше благородное намерение превратить в составную часть мыслительного пространства родственных душ…
Ведь зародившееся в поэтичесских мистериях разумное зерно _ существенный символ этого пространства…
…И если сохранился ты в мире этом
Как зерно,
Что смешалось с жёлтыми листьями
В ожидании весны…
Прорастет оно, но не смочь ему
Правым быть до небес,
Ибо в стихах твоих родина
Стонет горестно вновь…

12-14.03.2006

Джанри Гогешвили

перевод из грузинского Гиниы Челидзе

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GOGEJANR: პოეზია _ სიზმრიდან ცხადში _ ... რადგან სამშობლო შენს ლექსებში კვლავ მწარედ კვნესის...
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Poems by / from poet Janri Gogeshvili best love poem famous poets ...
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Discover and contact JANRI A GOGESHVILI on AuthorsDen. Get the latest information on JANRI A GOGESHVILI, bio, books, news, events, short stories, etc.
JVJ Home Page- [ Перевести эту страницу ] Janri Gogeshvili - Georgian Writer (prose-writer, publicist) , born on the 31 January 1946, received high education, finished the faculty of library science ...
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ჯანრი გოგეშვილი
რეკლამა
პოეზია რუსულ ენაზე...
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вторник, 22 января 2008 г.

Top 500 Poets in the World -Poem Hunter...

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Top 500 Poets in the World -Poem Hunter...
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Top 500 Poets in the World -Poem Hunter

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399. JANRI GOGESHVILI Georgia click for details: 41

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მერმე...

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Most Visited Poets (Jan 28 - Mar 8)Наиболее Посещаемые Поэты (Ян 28 - 8 марта)

49.
JANRI GOGESHVILI
Georgia click for details: 238

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Наиболее Посещаемые Поэты (2 марта - 11 апреля)
72.
JANRI GOGESHVILI
Georgia
click for details: 211

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Most Visited Poets (Apr 2 - May 12)Наиболее Посещаемые Поэты (2 апреля - 12 мая)


56.
JANRI GOGESHVILI
Georgia
click for details: 211

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მერმე...

Parallelism... Alternative... Literary way … Poems By Poet Gioom Galen>

34.
GIOOM GALEN
Austria
click for details: 287

пятница, 4 января 2008 г.

The Echo of The Universal poetical Field _ Response…ნახმევი ლექსთა ველისა...

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The Echo of The Universal poetical Field
Response…
ნახმევი ლექსთა ველისა...

For me it was pleasantly and interestingly visit in the poetic field ”Poet’s For Integrity” …
Where I have presented some poem from the poetic collection for consideration …

LIFE DWELLS IN PAIN

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: What a beautiful and universal poem, my friend. Certainly, as children of God, we experience all of the same processes afforded humans in this finite world. You have touched my soul with your awesome writing talent!
Sheri.



LIFE DWELLS IN PAIN

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: This poem seems to me to contain the practice of dealing with pain at least with Bio feedback. Visualization regarding removing the cause and provides a positive dimension within which to perceive pain and its nature. The last two lines of each stanza are fantastic and so creatively unique. A most inspirational experience to read this poem and spend time in re-reads and musing over the word picks and metaphors.
martin



LIFE DWELLS IN PAIN

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: What a beautiful and universal poem, my friend. Certainly, as children of God, we experience all of the same processes afforded humans in this finite world. You have touched my soul with your awesome writing talent! Sheri.


LIFE DWELLS IN PAIN…

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: Such a beautiful in-dept poem on the true meaning of suffering in life. Pain is inevitable, the sooner we can accept the pain, as a reminder to life, one day it will be gone forever, when the Creator puts a mortal end to one’ S suffering. I can live until that day. Great write...
peace, racha.



THE THOUGHT - HUNG DOWN
IN THE TEAR - AS A DREAM
AND TREASON

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: WOW, WOW, WOW… What a great poem of discovery and natural maturation Excellent metaphors and so literary containing hidden meanings that surface with the imagination of the reader. Beautiful and lovely in writer word and lovely in written word and reader’s experience.
Martin

THE THOUGHT - HUNG DOWN
IN THE TEAR - AS A DREAM
AND TREASON

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: I love how this poem turns a negative info a positive thought out!! Excellent!
Sheri

THE THOUGHT - HUNG DOWN
IN THE TEAR - AS A DREAM
AND TREASON

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: Beautiful metaphoric language, nature blooming Forth into lafe.
Peace, racha.

LIFE WAS DOZING,
THE LADY-BIRD FLEW
OVER THE VERGE OF THE DEATH

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: Sometimes the point is of the writing is lost in the translation I don’t feel so… Writes… the choices bring the cleansing For a brighter day, a brighter insight, and a brighter planet by the flight, of the appearance, of the Lady Bird. Change comes from the darkness within the process of the cleansing Wonderfully constructed and presented Strong emotive value,
Phillis.


LIFE WAS DOZING,
THE LADY-BIRD FLEW
OVER THE VERGE OF THE DEATH

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: This poem reads as if it were mythology. I enjoyed the imagery and feeling that I was being transported back to the beginning of time. AB
queen Author’s Profile



LIFE WAS DOZING,
THE LADY-BIRD FLEW
OVER THE VERGE OF THE DEATH

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: Great and enticing title Powerful commentary on male dominance. The last two stanza are so creative in the description of the female contribution of the female contribution to society and the world as well as bringing the world. The last stanza is totally crafted as a superb literary poem within itself.
Martin

LIFE WAS DOZING,
THE LADY-BIRD FLEW
OVER THE VERGE OF THE DEATH

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: Indeed does our humanness get in the way of life and vice-versa. These ways of course are and always will be universal as long as finite fills the earth Although, I do not believe in fate, (but destiny)… the poem ends with a light in the hope and belief of better things to come! I don’t know if we will ever learn, I doubt it, as history speaks for itself. But we continue, the masses do, to hope and pray for the better.
Sheri

LIFE WAS DOZING,
THE LADY-BIRD FLEW
OVER THE VERGE OF THE DEATH

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: Beautifully deep and so profound, all that can bring about life, hope to a dying world. Peace, racha.

LIFE WAS DOZING,
THE LADY-BIRD FLEW
OVER THE VERGE OF THE DEATH

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: I’m not sure I fully comprehend your meaning and yet, your words stir something deep within. May I ask what language the writing is? I find it fascinating. Your style is very different from mine but I appreciate the depth and soulfulness you express.
Dulcinea


Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: Outstanding _ Bravo & Oncore!! What more can be said?

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: indeed life is a satire filled pretense and soul. Soul to know what is right and what is wrong, pretense remains ever the tempt of the finite… great poem!
Sheri




ALL HAIL TO THE PURPLE RACE

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: Isn’t it ironic that nature takes the pain to show life in all its beauty… for every eye to see. But this poem is a reminder, that be we rose or violet blue, we too will know this feeling when our day is through. Great write, food for thought.
Peace, racha.

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI
Review:
Lovely images with such deep meaning. Beautiful timing with a climax. I enjoyed this very much with your experienced wordsmithing…
Phillis.

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: A poem that is universal. It profiles the inner Self of sadness combined with multi dimensions of love… Flows smoothly and takes the reader on a journey of reality. Filled with sadness and love yet leaves the option as to how one reacts or responds to life as a personal choice and not the victim of circumstances. This poem subtly emphasizes so many insights to living and choices.
Martin


THE OLD BIRD

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: This little old bird sound a lot like me hoping to become a nesting bird forever young and free. Great write, welcome to this site, this old bird will be singing new songs ans daylight turns to night.
WELCOME… tee, hee!
Peace, racha.

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: A great metaphor here, 3 quatrains filled with reality of aging and certainly you leave the door wide open with the last three verses which to me are quite powerful and still leave the end result up to the individual reader.
Sheri

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: Very, very creative. Most meaningful as related to the concept of a life cycle. The last stanza is so true. It says that age is not a number. It means only one thing ie how long one has breathing on his/her own regardless of the form of life. The word pic in the last line is a tremendous summary .
Martin

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: A very beautiful poem that touches the heart…
Sheri

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: Written with a depth rarely seen outside the motherland Janri _ kudos x _
Agashkina (daughter of Nicholas).


Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: Replete with word pics and balanced with emotional pallattes.
I love the title. It brings the reader immediately into the depth of the poem. I love the transition into the meaning of creation being a healer even tho’ facing darkness is still the challenge.
The last stanza is so powerful and conceptual and allows the reader to expand his/her imagination of conceptual of application to life.
Martin

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: Vastly deep in metaphor. Where is the affection and compassion this write seems to bring forth. You are a writer of status and it is a pleasure to be able to walk through your home of writings. The library door is open I suspect with more on the ethers to be shared… Very vivid write,
Phillis/Light.


THE BULL

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: Much power and strength is visible in this write. The metaphor compares both the fiery bull and the hot-tempered man. Great comparisons are portrayed.
Peace, racha.


Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: This is pure and raw in its violence and not a poem for the faint of heart. Well structured and most effective.
AB

THOUGH HE IS
A CELEBRATED CLOWN…

According to my son’s drawing

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: A most well crafted love poem. The interplay of experiences and Feelings by the king, queen, clown and full of shenanigans and zest!
Sheri

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: Are we actually in the presence… Or simply someone who has discovered a great poet and wishes to share? Either way _ great stuff & a rare treat!
Writing which sets a standard and raises the bar:)
asa



Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: To break out of the mold is a pushing and tugging process which takes perseverance and fortitude. Illusion/alone time, all part of it, as I see it. The human mind is of such a low vibration, however, the lotus blooms in the awakening…
Phillis\Light.


Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: I believe this is true of most humans at one time or another. We fight against all that makes us human and therefore vulnerable. Create poem.
AB PS. Welcome to the site.


Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: This poem seems to me to contain the practice of dealing with pain at least with Bio feedback, Visualization regarding removing the cause and provides a positive dimension within which to perceive pain and its nature. The last two lines of each stanza are Fantastic and so creatively unique. A most inspirational experience to read this poem and spend time in re-reads and musing over the word pick and metaphors.
Martin



GO AHEAD!

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: The wings of Forgiveness should not be difficult to find but low and behold it seems they are. This talks of just that, and shows the need to look the other way…
Another of your vast image laden writes, with strength of purpose, and depth of knowing.
Phillis.


HOLD IN HIGH RESPECT
THE VIRTUE BESTOWED ON YOU


Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: These words are penned from a grateful heart, telling me that the gift we received is ours, given to us to use not abuse in this life. We mast sift out good from the bad through our choices for the heavens expect nothing less from us great reminder.
Peace, racha

HOLD IN HIGH RESPECT
THE VIRTUE BESTOWED ON YOU

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: And so it is, that the higher orders are adhered to, and the lower orders are not. The messade within is a strong one,
Phillis.



HOLD IN HIGH RESPECT
THE VIRTUE BESTOWED ON YOU

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: Whatever our roots… whatever our county… the nature of the human heart does not change. Thanks for sharing this valuable poem.
AB



HOLD IN HIGH RESPECT
THE VIRTUE BESTOWED ON YOU

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: Sometimes I am forced to listen to God when Life is at its most painful. God gives me respite fro that pain, He does not inflict it, but He does use it to help me change. Thanks for sharing your poetry,
AB queen Author’s Profile



HOLD IN HIGH RESPECT
THE VIRTUE BESTOWED ON YOU

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: Well, I agree. We definitely need to live for ourselves, through out own morals and convictions, and not to impress others or through others. Already, we are world of sheep, not using our own minds, and letting others control us. Respect for others has got to be humanity’s salvation!...
Sheri

HOLD IN HIGH RESPECT
THE VIRTUE BESTOWED ON YOU

Submitted By: GOGESHVILI

Review: A wonderful description how the masses are compelled into conformity by society’s forces and movements and leadership. A most powerful reminder that we each are a person with a unique personhood designed for unique personhood designed for unique expressions designed for unique expressions and creative contribution to life. Let no one make puppets or robots out of us or anyone. The last stanza is Outstanding.
Martin

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Janri Gogeshvili - All poems of classical poet Janri Gogeshvili

воскресенье, 2 декабря 2007 г.

Prince Siamo’s Wooden Spoon - A tale _ CHIBITTO, THE DISGRACED MONGREL _ A tale _ THE ELEPHANT CALF WHO GULPED DOWN THE LAKE

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CHIBITTO, THE DISGRACED MONGREL

A tale

Chibitto, the disgraced dog, was immensely disgraced…
He never brushed his teeth, never took a bath, and, as a rule, slaked his thirst from puddles… and he grew up a very saucy and insolent dog…
You have to know that, in his homeland, all the living beings satisfied their hunger and slaked their thirst by inhaling the scent of grass, leaves, flowers, sea waves, fruit and the like…
Chib, as he was called in his “puppy-hood”, never brushed his teeth, never took a bath, and slaked his thirst from dirty pools…
That’s why he couldn’t tell various scents from each other, and didn’t care a pin for the sweet odor of spring.
Besides, he, the greedy thing, hunted birdies and chickens, and, very often, lifted eggs out of the nest on the sly…
Chibitto was disgracing the fragrant island… he set a bad example to other puppies carried away with discerning various scents and odors, and, one fine day, according to the decision of the council of elders, he was sent into exile. They stupefied him with the balmy winds, threw him in the boat that had no oars… and the boat sailed along the swift currents making a labyrinth around the island…
Chib came to himself on a certain forsaken shore. He bravely jumped out of the boat, gave his usual impudent bark, looked around with defiance, seeking for the victim he could bully… and, all of a sudden, How-How, a lousy mongrel appeared from the shrubs, and greeted him with an amiable bark. Chib snarled at him, and was about to snap at his neck with his sharp teeth when How-How rubbed against his legs… Chibp smelt some rancid odor…
It delighted him as he guessed the lousy creature and he were tarred with the same brush. He gave a loud bark, and made for the heart of the continent…
How-How, too, saw he had to do with an immensely impudent being, and followed him like a true lickspittle…
On their way, they met other dogs, and they, too, admitted Chibitto’s advantages. In a day or two, he was chosen a “chair-dog” of the pack consisting of creatures from distant lands. As for How-How, he was appointed to a post of a “sneak-in-chief”…
Most of the respectable dogs of the village were annoyed on seeing a pack of mongrels, and set about the warning bark.
But a few light-minded creatures were gripped with curiosity, joined the nasty pack, and promised How-How to help him in disgracing Cicino, the brave rooster…
How-How hoped he could succeed in setting that boaster on Chibitto, in other words, on the dark-eyed being… and that the dark-eyed being, in his turn, would bite his head off.
How-How outran his chums in order to lure the rooster from the yard: he was sure to hang about the place in solitude or watch the garden.

How-How slipped skillfully in the familiar yard, greeted, not without flattery, the variegated hens pacing the lawn, and was about to ask them with a false smile where Cicino was, when, all at once, the rooster standing arrogantly on the stump, flapped his wings and shouted at the sooty thing:
“Sure, you’ve come to make your apologies to me… but you just look at yourself! You’d better lick off the dirt from your mug…”
The mongrel was startled, he couldn’t utter a single word for quite a while, and at last, ventured to mumble:
“Yes, I’ve come… I wanted to make my apologies long ago, but those mongrels didn’t let me do that. Look at them waiting at the gates. Upon my word, I crave for getting rid of them,” and he set about licking his sooty mouth with great zeal.
The brave and “fast-winged” rooster guessed that things were not getting on well, gave a shrill crow, jumped down from the stump, and made for the gates.
Cicino, the smart rooster, was immensely smart in word and deed: he liked to wash his beak, to flap his wings shaking off the dust, and to polish his spurs while digging up the ground.
His nicely arranged golden crest shone and glittered…
The pack of mongrels waited at the gates. Their mouths watered on seeing the fat hens.
The dark-eyed mongrel Chibitto held up his head, and sniffed at the air rather suspiciously. Then he strolled round the yard, found an opening in the hedge, and, in no time, was ready to catch a fat hen digging the ground…
Meanwhile, the bold rooster turned round, flew like an arrow towards the mongrel, pecked at his head several times, and pulled out his hair. Then he was quick about flying up and “landed” near the nest of wasps on a tree at the roadside.
The injured mongrel spun round, and then, rushed up to the flock of hens cackling with curiosity.
They scattered in a twinkling of an eye… The brave rooster, with a shrill crow, threw up Chibitto’s stinking hair at the wasps dozing in their nest, and darted away to save the hens…
The horrid smell of Chibitto’s hair made the wasps fly out of the nest…
Soon, they were ready for the attack…
Some of them assaulted the disgraced mongrel, one wasp flew into his ear and stung him bitterly, others stung him mercilessly under the tail… and the rest of them drove away the mongrels lingering about the place…
The only creature they spared for Cicino’s sake was How-How, the lousy mongrel trembling at the wall…
The air was pierced with buzzing noise… Chibitto, the immensely disgraced mongrel, dashed away with a horrible whimper.
About twenty not less injured mongrels followed him barking.
Cicino went on crowing arrogantly… the scared and ashamed creature, How-How, made up his mind to turn over a new leaf: he wanted to live like other respectable dogs…
Chibitto splashed down in the river, stood under the waterfall, and didn’t step aside until washing away all the dirt…
Suddenly, he felt he wanted to go home… to the place where all the dogs had been brushing their teeth since their puppy-hood… where everyone took a bath and mastered the rules of inhaling various smells…
He swam down along the river, reached the seashore, and made his utmost to sniff at the balmy wind blowing from the sea… he was to find the way to the sweet-smelling island surrounded by the labyrinth of currents…
But, you know, he had a special – an odd sense of smell: he couldn’t feel the vivifying fragrance of the waves, to say nothing about the scent of the distant island shrouded in winds…He had a good nose just for a stinking carrion…
He couldn’t guess from where the wind blew, and had no idea about the kinds of winds and the directions of their gusts and rushes…
He barked, he howled, but succeeded neither in smelling nor in making out the direction of gusts.
At last, all exhausted and fatigued, he went and lay on the shore…
Night fell, the moon beamed in the sky… Chibitto slept soundly…
All at once, Terracco, the crawfish, the celebrated charity-monger, showed up. He was the most experienced physician among all the crawfishes of the region…
“You just look at this disgraced mongrel! Chibitto cries for his peaceful puppy-hood, craves for discerning various scents, but he doesn’t seem to know that his dream won’t come true until he washes and cleans out his mouth and nostrils… His jaws and nose stink with the smell of carrion… how can he smell any fragrance?” said the crawfish mockingly.
Then he put in motion his ten legs, made the soundly sleeping mongrel open his jaws, and with the help of his nippers, gave his mouth a good cleaning. Being through with that, he tickled him in the nostrils, and when Chibitto set about sneezing, he splashed water at him with his ten legs, and told him to take slow and deep breaths.
Chibitto almost came out of his sleep. Half-awake, he mused over his puppy-hood, and did his utmost to breathe in the fragrance of the sea.
Then he came out of his sleep once and for all… immediately made friends with Terracco, and wishing to get back to his country, set about training under the direction of the crawfish.
It was no joke to restore the lost years…but he did his best to gain the dignity peculiar to the inhabitants of the fragrant island…
He already kept on brushing his teeth at dawn and at nightfall, drank just pure water, and mastered the science of smelling… Soon he could tell winds from each other, found out all about the breeze… his eyes, too, cleared up, and no one ventured to call him “dark-eyed” any longer…
Terracco trained him with more zeal and diligence for the distant voyage, and taught him everything to the smallest detail about the undercurrents, because the way towards the fragrant island was surrounded by the labyrinth of such currents, but, as luck would have it, the celebrated physician didn’t remember the origin and names of some winds and currents himself…
Even the baby-inhabitants of the fragrant island were aware of such trifles… but Chibitto, first, had to get there…
Terracco hoped that in his own homeland, too, lived smart little ones who would willingly inform Chibitto about the origin, names and directions of different winds and currents…
And then, some day, they, too, together with the immensely disgraced mongrel Chibitto, would visit the fragrant island, the place where all the living beings satisfied their hunger and slaked their thirst by breathing in the scent of grass, leaves, flowers, sea waves, fruit, and the like…



THE ELEPHANT CALF WHO GULPED DOWN THE LAKE
AND THE SHEAT-FISH STUCK IN THE AQUARIUM

A tale

The donkey, the young of camel and the elephant calf dwelt at the tiny lake, and grew up imitating and “mirroring” each other…
The donkey’s parents, Daddy-Ass and Mummy-Ass, worked as laborers nearby. The little camel’s dad and mum, Camillio and Camille, were often sent on a mission, and they had to entrust their child to the neighbors’ care for months. The elephant calf’s pop and mom, Elphie and Mammothie, together with other elephants, worked as lumbermen near the lake.
The little ones often stayed alone, and kept on telling incredible stories about their parents. According to those fables, Mummy-Ass had bravely kicked the greedy wolf … Camille had saved a wicked man buried in the desert sands… and that man had made up his mind to enslave her… Elphie and Mammothie had caught a huge tree torn up by the roots “thanks to tornado” – the malicious wind going to drift it towards the nearby villa, and aim it at Annitta and Jacomandro’s hammock…
The very event seemed no fable at all, as the children often treated the elephant calf to various tasty eatables, but let’s forget it… because they had been kind to the donkey and the little camel as well…
The donkey, the little camel and the elephant calf did their utmost to entertain their guests, and like nice hosts, often gave circus performances at the bank of the tiny lake…
But, one fine day, the elephant calf guessed the kids were bored with all kinds of performances, and didn’t enjoy jumping at the bank and splashing water over each other any longer… and he decided to invite them to a distant voyage…
“There, on the other side of the lake, near the rushy bank, is a source of a long river… the river flows into the sea, and the sea, in its turn, of course, flows into the ocean,” started his speech the elephant calf.
He was sure to know such things better than his friends did, as his parents, Elphie and Mammothie, kept on dragging logs in those parts…
That’s why the little ones were certain the voyage would be rather long. To the elephant calf’s mind, Jacomandro might have made a proper captain of the expedition.
The donkey, though he was not good at braying yet, expressed his consent by sneezing.
Jacomandro didn’t hesitate, and agreed to be a captain at once, but thought it wise to declare:
“The ship needs a ship’s boy (or a girl), and Annitta is just born for that. She’ll climb the mast skillfully and hoist the sail in no time.” Annitta, being a smart and cheerful girl, encouraged her friends, gladly accepted the post of a ship’s girl, and almost announced herself a captain. Among the trees on the slope, she chose a young, but tall ash-tree for the mast.
The elephant calf, too, was not long in thinking. To his mind, too, they had to begin with the mast. He tried to tear up by the roots the flexible ash-tree with his trunk, but the young tree, infuriated at such violence, made up its mind to teach him a good lesson and spanked him with its top. The elephant calf, seized with panic, fell head over heels, splashed down in the water… and lay there on his back…
All at once, the donkey who craved for growing into an ass brayed desperately:
“Look, our elephant has built a ship, and sails away leaving us here!” Then he jumped on the elephant calf’s belly…
“I’ll be the navigator!” shouted the donkey with assurance.
The little camel stopped grazing. All of a sudden, he remembered his breed was called “the ship of the desert”, and he jumped onto the elephant calf’s belly, yelling: “No, no! I have to be a navigator!”
“O dear! Daddy, help!” whimpered the elephant calf calling his dad, Mammothie.
Annitta shouted at them furiously: “You must be ashamed of sailing away without your captain!” She gripped her brother’s hand, and, thanks to a great leap forward, they found themselves on the donkey and little camel’s backs.
Jacomandro’s right foot, together with Annitta’s left one, happened to rest between the little camel’s humps, and, accordingly, Annita’s right foot and Jacomandro’s left one – on the donkey’s back… in short, they stood with their backs to each other.
“Helm to the right!’ commanded the captain.
“Helm to the port!” insisted the ship’s girl.
On hearing that, the elephant calf made up his mind not to disappoint his friends who thought themselves on a vessel, and he, immediately, turned into a ship. He stopped calling his daddy – Mammothie, set on move his trunk, gave a loud trumpet, flapped his ears, and swam away…
“Here is the mast!” shouted Annitta on seeing the trunk rising above the surface of the lake. The girl was immensely glad. In no time, she tied her kerchief around the trunk, took a magnifier from her pocket, and started to investigate arrogantly the surroundings with it, as if it were field glasses. Then she stared with pride at the sail hoisted on the elephant calf’s trunk… She, rather ingeniously, thought it proper to embroider an emblem of the sun on the sail, and directed the glowing magnifier to it.
The kerchief began to flame…
“Fire… help somebody!” yelled the donkey remaining at his post. The scared elephant calf forgot he had been a vessel and had to ship the passengers. All of a sudden, he turned into a fire engine, splashed down his trunk together with the flaming kerchief, that is to say, the blazing mast, in the lake, drank off the water at one draught, and then, utterly swollen, found himself on the bottom of the lake, together with his crew…
All the fish on the bottom of the lake and other petty water-dwellers started to squeal: “Help! We’re dying!”
The elephant calf wanted to gush out the water, but the kerchief had stuck in his trunk, and he lay there like a huge wineskin.
“Look at the bottom of the lake! How littered it is! What have they not thrown down here!” complained Annitta.
“Leave the bottom of the lake alone! I say, if the elephant doesn’t gush out the water in time, all these poor fish will die!” said Jacomandro angrily.
“No, not all of them… there I see an upset aquarium. Somebody must have thrown it in the lake, there’s still some water in it. Those who get into it will be saved!” shouted the donkey addressing the little camel, for some reason.
On hearing that, all the fish made for the aquarium… they desperately made their way towards it, pushing each other mercilessly. One lusty sheat-fish, very good at bullying the little and weak, swept away all the fish with his tail, dug out the sand with his head, and got into the “shelter”… but stuck there, and splashed out the water. All the hopes of the little fish have fallen to the ground.
The swollen elephant was sure to choke any time…
Meanwhile, Jacomandro, utterly pitying the fish, grew quite reasonable and commanded:
“Attention! Now I’ll start counting, and on hearing “three” all the crew is to leap up and jump onto the elephant with all its might!”
He started to count. The crew leaped up at once, but Annitta happened to jump up very high, Jacomandro – not so high… then the donkey proved to be quite dodgy, the little camel – rather clumsy… and, of course, he was the first to jump on the elephant calf. The unlucky donkey hung like a sack between his humps. Jacomandro found himself on the donkey’s back, and Anitta sprang on Jacomandro’s shoulders.
In a twinkling of an eye, the kerchief stuck in the elephant calf’s trunk, merely, flew out of it, and water flowed from his belly like a fountain…
The lake again turned into a lake… the fountain had gushed out just in time and saved the water-dwellers…
Then all of them floated up to the surface, and, being through with their voyage, swam towards the bank.
“Here is a real hero, our captain! He has saved the lake together with its dwellers!” shouted Annitta admiring her brother’s smartness.
“Yes, the lake is saved, but what about my poor bruised belly?” grumbled the elephant calf… and, all of a sudden, the sheat-fish, stuck in the aquarium and tied to the trunk with his moustache, started to shriek: “Where are you dragging me? Do you think me one of these puny fish?”
The elephant calf was gripped with panic once again. He stood on his hind legs, and at the sight of the sheat-fish, merely, went off his head: he fell on his back and again was turned into a ship.
“Look, the elephant has built a ship, and is sailing away leaving us here!” brayed the donkey like a grown-up ass.
And the events reoccurred… the little camel and the donkey jumped on the elephant calf’s belly like flees, Annitta sprang on the little camel’s back, Jacomandro – on the donkey’s…
“Hoist the mast!” commanded the captain. The elephant calf raised his trunk obediently, the sheat-fish stuck in the aquarium again went off his head: “Dear me! What chaps! I don’t want to voyage with you at all!” And he lashed the trunk with his moustache. The elephant calf trumpeted and sent the sheat-fish, together with his aquarium, right down to the bottom of the lake.
“Don’t want to be encaged! Don’t want to be stuck!” whined the lusty sheat-fish.
“It serves you right… the greedy creature bullying the weak has it come to him!” squealed the little fish swimming round the aquarium and gloating over his misfortune… The elephant calf was sure to reach the rushy bank in no time. He hoped there wouldn’t exist the source of the fancied river “flowing into the sea.” He kept on repeating to himself: “Upon my word, if ever I turn into a little elephant, I’ll take care not to tell lies!”




Prince Siamo’s Wooden Spoon

A tale

As a rule, Prince Siamo was seated with great love and care at the place of honor of the ancient and immensely long table…
The table was always marvelously laid.
Twelve times twelve servants, notable for their neatness and obedience, attended him with utter diligence and zeal, but Prince Siamo ate unwillingly his breakfast, dinner or supper, as he was the only soul to sit at the table.
Despite that, according to the ancient tradition, the table was set for twelve times twelve persons, that is to say, for the twelve representatives of the dynasty’s twelve noble families…
The very number was required to express the “perfect perfection” of the court.
True, Prince Siamo was the only representative of the dynasty to have escaped hard times, but the ancient tradition of setting the table was a compulsory etiquette with them…
The guest attendant fussed about as if he had to treat to delicious eatables a lot of messengers, guests and those, bringing all kinds of gifts and presents.
The master of ceremonies, too, who had to keep strictly the established order, never lost courage, and seated the prince at the table laid for twelve times twelve persons with great respect… as if in front of the noblemen invited to the party.
It must be mentioned, that according to the etiquette of that country, the amount of the cutlery intended for each person considerably beat that of other countries.
When to the table overloaded with numerous golden and silver plates and china, deep dishes for broth and the like, bowls, saucers, spoons, knives and forks, ladles, tiny shovels, nutcrackers, all kinds of cutters, pincers, golden and silver tumblers and glasses, cups, mugs, goblets, wine-glasses, serviettes, paper napkins and other trifles, at counting of which even the most experienced butler would be at a loss, were added a lot of eatables for twelve times twelve persons – fowl, veal and venison, soups, pies and garnish, fish and vegetables, cheese cakes and corn bread, piquant sauces, pastry, sweets, marmalade and jam, various kinds of fruit, tea, coffee, cocoa, lemonade and other refreshing and soft drinks, the young prince sat there with bated breath.
But it couldn’t be helped… such an overloaded table was considered the symbol of the power of Siamo Dynasty, and he wasn’t to breakfast, dine or sup otherwise…
What is more, according to the etiquette, he had to take fruit or delicious eatables with proper tiny shovels, spoons or forks, and then, taste all of them with the right tablespoons and teaspoons.
While picking up the cutlery he thought that he was given the weapons of the court warriors, a spear of two meters length or an immensely heavy sword with utterly massive edges. No wonder he was seized with such a feeling, because, after his breakfast he was to practice the art of war, and had to put on a heavy helmet and the thickest armor…
If, at times, he intended to take something with his hand, the servants wearing patterned gloves, were quick about slipping into his fingers (of course, on the sly) the right shovel and forks with two, three, or seven prongs.
The thing is that the prince wasn’t to touch with his hand the food and fruit offered by the servants, though it was customary to eat all the “chow” prepared by the same hands…
The young man, bored with such ceremonies, in spite of being a prince, was utterly dispirited. He slept very badly, and kept on wondering how to get rid of those twelve times twelve fancied table-companions and the siege of cutlery, ladles, spoons, goblets and the like…
Once, he woke up at midnight very excited. He got up, slipped by the dozing guard just in his nightshirt, and walked along the candle-lit passage.
Then he turned the corner and, all at once, found himself in the kingdom of dishes, in other words, in the cellar full of different kinds of bowls, dinner and tea service and cutlery.
Prince Siamo eyed discontentedly the shelves overloaded with dishes, and was about to leave the place when, all of a sudden, he caught sight of a very beautiful chest.
He went up to it, removed its lid, and saw there a lot of wooden spoons.
He touched some of them with curiosity, and, unintentionally, started to look for the distinguished one… and succeeded in finding it…
In no time, he came across an ancient, “mysteriously” beautiful, glowing wooden spoon.
He picked it up with a heartthrob, cleaned with the sleeve of his nightshirt, and saw on its handle the totem of his dynasty – the “sky scraping” tree, sparkling with all the colors of the rainbow.
All of a sudden, the spoon stirred, and Prince Siamo smelt an utterly tempting odor… He was about to make for the kitchen, when the spoon moved about in the air, and performed with great skill the dynasty’s sacred trick of combat.
Prince Siamo, too, quite unintentionally, mirrored the action.
Then the spoon showed him another trick. The prince again trusted himself to the spoon without any hesitation, and started to practise by moonlight. After that, the spoon seated on his open palm, and again turned into a common wooden spoon, hinting that it was time to rest.
Prince Siamo printed a tender kiss on it, hid it away in his bosom, and went to his bedroom humming to himself.
That night he slept soundly.
When he woke up, he tried to recall his dream… but could just feel the instantaneous encouraging quiver caused by the voice heard in his sleep…
Suddenly he recalled it was a wooden spoon. He took it out of his bosom and printed another kiss on the place where the dynasty’s totem – the rainbow tree was carved out.
Then he dressed without his servant’s help, washed his hands and face and, bright and cheerful, went to the kitchen.
The servants seemed embarrassed, and followed him hanging their heads.
Even the master of ceremonies, who was to keep strictly the established order, was startled to see the prince so bright and cheerful…
Prince Siamo, standing at the edge of the immensely long table, prayed to God for mercy, and then, before sinking in the gilded armchair, took the wooden spoon out of his bosom, cleaned it carefully with a napkin, printed a tender kiss on its handle, and put it gently on the table.
On seeing the wooden spoon the butler was seized with panic, the master of ceremonies, too, held his breath for a while and said in a trembling voice: “It doesn’t become Your Highness to eat with that spoon…”
“My spoon and I know better what’s what,” replied the prince, smiling broadly, and started to eat his soup with the wooden spoon with great appetite. The servants stood stock-still… Then the master of ceremonies came to himself and sent for the “Warder-in-Chief.”
Prince Siamo helped himself to his soup with such delight as if caressing the wooden spoon… and the spoon, in its turn, vaguely reminded him of something…
The Warder-in-Chief came in – a white-bearded, broad shouldered old man holding a staff in his hand. He had been a true servant to Prince Siamo’s grandfather long time ago.
The staff had a tiger head for a knob.
Prince Siamo looked with an unintentional distrust at the staff – the thing considered the sign of authority, and, all of a sudden, remembered that in that very dream the wooden spoon called to his mother, who seemed to have been locked up somewhere in a dungeon. And its mother was a beautiful glowing royal spoon serving as a staff to the representative of the dynasty in the remote past.
The Grand Vizier blessed Prince Siamo with great esteem, wished him a good appetite, and uttered with usual dignity:
“This miserable spoon mustn’t touch Your Highness’ lips.”
Prince Siamo ignored his words, but the vizier, once more, delicately reminded him about the royal etiquette.
For quite a while, Prince Siamo went on eating his soup in silence, but then, when the Warder-in-Chief ventured to come up very close to him and was about to report on that notorious royal etiquette, the youth stopped eating and replied:
“You are sadly mistaken! My great ancestors helped themselves with this very spoon before the dynasty was formed… In those times, the mother of this very spoon – the royal spoon, the symbol of sincere hospitality – might have been carved on our State Emblem, but seemingly, a certain arrogant king thought that beneath his dignity, and instead of the rainbow tree, the mother spoon and the heavenly flower, had carved the sharp-toothed tiger, an arbalest, and a huge fist on it.”
“The rainbow tree, you say?” asked the old man in surprise. “How do you know about it?” Then he eyed attentively the spoon, and seemed to have guessed something. “Yes, I must admit that I’ve heard from your great-grandfather about that tree… It was considered the ancestor of Siamo Dynasty…
After the rain, when the sun shone brightly, a lot of rainbows flew up from its branches and started to flutter about… the like found the like, blended with each other, and then they disappeared… but if the unlike couple remained in the sky, the father tree called them and when they landed, he turned them into a sapling… I’ve heard that all the things carved out of the branches of that very tree possessed a magic power… No, I’ve never set eyes on that magic tree…” The vizier seemed justifying himself. “Your great-grandfather hasn’t seen it either… I remember him tell that his great-great-grandfather was the one to have seen the garden of the rainbow trees… That garden bloomed beyond the mountain, on the present burnt valley, in the first estate of your dynasty… and then the nine-headed dragon being cross with the flying rainbow came down from the sky… and burnt up the whole valley with his fiery tongues…” The vizier saw he had given away too much and stopped.
Prince Siamo rinsed the spoon in the bowl of warm water the servant had brought in, dried it, and, self-confidently, hid it away in his bosom.
Then he thanked God for the food, and turned to the Warder-in-Chief:
“Listen to my command! From now on, no twelve times twelve fancied noblemen and the like… no unnecessary food, sweets and liquors, no spare plates, cups, glasses, cutlery and such mere show… Let most of my servants go to workshops, and master some useful professions,” then he looked searchingly at the Warder-in-Chief, and before he could object to all this, added, decisively: “You’d better tell me more about that fiery-and-venomous dragon, I see you’re hiding something from me…”
The old man hesitated, but the prince’s solemn and searching look attained its object…
“Yes… even now he dwells in the dynasty’s former palace… most of his time, he spends lying and dozing, and each year, as soon as spring comes, he lets the poisonous fire out and, once again, destroys by it the burnt valley, taking care that not a single rainbow tree should grow… Unfortunately, many betrayers and traitors serve him… they live on remains of his meals, and insist on his coming and blotting us out,” he complained, and then, added boldly: “But don’t think us sitting idle… we regularly take safety measures to prevent him from coming to our parts… we send him all the eatables prepared according to the royal etiquette…
“What humiliation, what come-down!” shouted Prince Siamo with annoyance.
“But, in return, no one ventures to assault us from behind that mountain, neither from the seashore, for the dragon, as soon as he smells trouble, lets out the fire-storm and then, there appear such waves that…”
“Thus, we’re saved by our slavery… If you were such poor warriors and so bad at fighting why did you change the symbols on the State Emblem?” asked the prince looking mockingly at the vizier seized with secret pride. “The rainbow tree, the royal spoon and the heavenly flower were sure to express the divine power… and you, thanks to your arrogance, preferred the open-mouthed tiger, an arbalest and a huge fist to them… brought into fashion pompous ammunition and made the army inactive!” Prince Siamo, unwillingly, scolded the vizier as if he was to blame for all that…
“We thought it untimely for you to know all that, but your wise discourse has encouraged me. I see you’re no kid any longer, and very soon, by the mutual consent of the elders, you’ll be crowned…” concluded the experienced and smart courtier in a voice showing obedience.
“Only when the rainbow tree garden appears in our country”, announced boldly the prince.
Then he rose and said: “And now, I am going to visit the former estates of Siamo Dynasty!”
The whole court began to worry… The Great Viziers – the Commander-in-Chief, the Master of Horses, the Admiral of the Fleet, the Warder and others – were thrown into a flatter.
The master of royal stables and armor begged him to mount one of his best horses, but Prince Siamo announced that he wouldn’t have anyone accompany him, and forbade his servants to watch him…
He said with his usual enthusiasm and inspiration that if necessary, he’d get weapons and a steed himself. Then he hurried out of the yard…
The only thing he fetched with was the magic spoon hidden in his bosom.
The spoon seemed to sing to him about his ancestors’ the heroic deeds…
In spite of the immensely hot summer day, he felt cheerful and walked away humming…
When he reached the summit of the mountain, he beheld a glittering castle in the distance. His heart melted with joy and he, impatiently, went down the slope.
Soon he was tortured by thirst, and the request escaped his lips:
“O wooden spoon, my dear friend, will you show me the way to the brook?”
He felt that the spoon hidden away in his bosom dropped a hint, and he, too, trusting the intuition, found himself on the path that led him to the brook, but it couldn’t be called a brook… as it kept on dripping pitiably.
Somehow, he slaked his thirst and, all at once, felt he was hungry as a wolf.
He looked round, and saw that the trees with crooked branches resembled no trees at all… they were almost stripped off the leaves, to say nothing of the fruit…
The prince was a bit startled. “I see the dragon’s fiery poison has destroyed not only the rainbow garden, but all the surroundings to boot,” he thought and begged, most humbly, the wooden spoon to help him in getting some food…
Intuitively he found himself in the garden hidden in the forest that seemed thoroughly destroyed because of the lack of water, and the owner, too, was certain to have abandoned it long ago… but the prince came across a vine, and the grapes gave him some strength.
After satisfying his hunger, he saw he needed the wooden spoon’s advice: “O wooden spoon, tell me what I can do about that dragon”.
“You just go ahead, and you’ll guess it on your way,” said the spoon and he, too, followed his advice…
Feeling that he was free as air, Prince Siamo was immensely cheered up. At times, it seemed to him he had been in captivity and was set free later… it seemed to him he had abandoned the troops of plates, ladles, cutlery, goblets, wine-glasses, and the like…
But later, he was troubled by the multitude of the so-called guests he ran into…
All of them looked like visitors, indeed, but their behavior showed they had no idea of what a guest was. They kept on plundering all they could… and, it must be said, that not much was left there to plunder…
Once they almost robbed him.
The prince took out his spoon, but the wooden spoon didn’t stir at all…
The robbers burst out in laughter, they were sure the miserable spoon couldn’t harm them, but, all at once, Prince Siamo saw he had to act. He recalled the art of war… he used the spoon as a weapon, and did it so skillfully that the robbers had no time to use their swords and arbalests…
When he came down the slope, he saw the valley all dried up and full of cracks, thanks to the draught.
He ran into shepherds who looked very sad, and kept on watching a few sheep, cows and a miserable horse survived.
Expressing his sympathy, he asked them what the trouble was.
“O, you just look at us! We can not plough and till the land… the cattle is perished, our families are starving, and soon this place will be turned into a desert…”
The prince was immensely touched. “And doesn’t the court send relief to you?”
“They don’t care a pin! After the hard times they haven’t set eyes on the place beyond the mountain. They keep themselves with the wealth got from the diamond mines, and people say so much food is thrown away after Prince Siamo’s meals that it could support all the inhabitants of our region. The only heir of the dynasty is said absolutely disfigured by gulping down all he can… and no one cares about people, they all crave for fawning upon the dragon…” replied a wrinkle-faced old man and added: “All their heroic deeds I’ve heard about seem to be fables made up by the court writers…”
Prince Siamo looked utterly ashamed. He eyed the half-famished horse and, without thinking twice, told the shepherds:
“You just lend me your horse. I’m going to the dwelling of that fiery dragon to restore the rainbow garden. When I’m back you’ll be rewarded…
“This miserable horse is of little use! Besides, we’ve seen many gone to those parts, but not a soul returned. We’re sure to lose even this creature, to say nothing of the reward. In a day or two we’re going to kill it… we can live on its meat for a week,” replied a young man a bit rudely.
But the old man looked searchingly at Prince Siamo and said: “As he had mentioned the rainbow garden, he mustn’t be a simpleton or a common fellow. Let him take the horse… fortune may smile upon us.”
Prince Siamo thanked the old man, and promised him not to let them down. All of a sudden, he darted away, found himself on the back of the horse in no time, seized him by the mane with one hand, took the wooden spoon out of his pocket with the other, and waved it in the air.
The shepherds gaped at him, and then started to giggle… “Look at him waving the wooden spoon like a sword,” said one of them mockingly.
“The man seems a bit touched, and we’re sure to lose the horse… have you ever heard anyone fight with a spoon?” asked another with indignation.
Only the wrinkle-faced old man guessed something and said gently:
“The spoon has been known a symbol of wealth since the beginning of time, and wealth is of different kinds – wealth differs from wealth… If a man is brave and courageous, he can defeat an enemy with a thing that seems ordinary at first sight, turning it into the mightiest weapon…
The horse, too, as if inspired by some invisible power, strained every nerve, leapt forward, and galloped away at full speed like a true steed…
The nine-headed dragon smelt trouble and thrust his nine heads out of the nine windows of the palace.
The traitors rushed out, and assaulted Prince Siamo with their arbalests…
The wooden spoon, in a twinkling of an eye, started to spin round the horse and sent the arrows back to the enemy.
It fought with all its heart, as it knew that in the dungeon of the palace was locked up the mother-spoon – the royal spoon kneading magic food and seasoning all kinds of dishes…
Prince Siamo galloped his horse turned into a steed round the palace, and aimed the wooden spoon at the dragon’s nine heads in turn…
“What makes him fool with that spoon?” asked the heads one another, and having nothing against being entertained, stared with curiosity at the wooden spoon smelling of the marvelous dishes prepared at the court.
“Here’s a gift from the palace, I hope you enjoy it,” exclaimed the prince.
The greedy dragon craned his nine necks.
The heads with dribbling mouths craved for licking the spoon smelling of the desired eatables, but Prince Siamo galloping round the palace, brought the spoon closer to all the nine heads in turn and, in the end, succeeded in stupefying and putting them into hypnotic sleep…
The steed, too, without wasting time, kept on jumping up high round the palace and smashing with his hoofs all the nine heads of the dragon…
The rescued traitors fell on their knees, and threw themselves on the prince’s mercy…
“The royal spoon!” demanded Prince Siamo.
The wooden spoon started to dance with joy, and sang tunefully to the prince:

“Here comes the herald,
The messenger,
The skilled runner,
The kind angel.
He is nimble, agile
And quick,
And he brings
The castle keys…
And the mother spoon,
The marvelous spoon,
Kneading the food,
Seasoning each dish
With care and relish,
The guard of all the virtues
Of the world
At the Will
Of the Lord of Lords.”

Soon, the messenger itself showed up, carrying the glowing mother spoon. Prince Siamo galloped by at full speed and got the spoon…
All at once, the whole surroundings were brightened up, and the marvelous rainbow garden with trees reaching the sky, appeared around the palace.
The meeting of the mother and its child – the royal spoon and the wooden spoon – was a sight for sore eyes…
Then the rainbows flew up to the sky from the branches, the beautiful flower appeared in the heavens, and all the surroundings turned green… the brooks again started to babble… the birds in the sky and the animals on the land commenced to multiply…
People hiding themselves in caves, came out in broad day-shine fearlessly, breathed with relief, and went back to their ancestors’ estates…
The masters of the famished horse got a herd of thoroughbred steeds…
Hosts looked like hosts. The irksome guests fled the palace…
All of a sudden, the wooden spoon flew up to the sky, neared the heavenly flower and bowed its head to it. An immensely beautiful lass fluttered out of the flower, and mounted the handle of the wooden spoon. The spoon, in its turn, flew back to the prince and said joyously:
“Here is the princess of the Rainbow-Land! From now on, you’re engaged… As fate has willed it, you’d been engaged long ago… before you were born…”
The prince, enchanted by the princess’ beauty, bowed to the sky in obedience, and asked his bride to a dance to the music pealing from the rainbow…
On the State Emblem of Siamo Dynasty, again appeared the symbols of wealth, power and hearty hospitality – the mother spoon, the rainbow tree and the heavenly flower…
As for the wooden spoon, it helped Prince Siamo in putting the worldly affairs in order…
If God shows mercy to you, and you’re faithful to the way of life of your ancestors, even the mere wooden spoon will defend you and save you from danger…” said the royal spoon in a whisper.

Translated by Asmat Lekiashvili

Janri Gogeshvili