My Beauty, Do Not Sing For Me

My beauty, do not sing for me The songs of Georgia, of grievance: My thoughts immediately flee To another life and shores in distance. They bring to me -- your cruel tunes -- Alas, the sad and clear vision: The steppe, the night -- under the moon, The poor and very distant virgin. While seeing you, I could forget The image so sad and fair, But, look, you sing -- and it is set Again before my eyes in air. My beauty, do not sing for me The songs of Georgia, of grievance: My thoughts immediately flee To another life and shores in distance. Translated by Yevgeny Bonver