David Magradze

Just for the heck of it, one day I googled "Georgian Poets" and I came a across a list of names. I decided to randomly select one-David (Dato) Magradze and I read one his translated  poems. I enjoyed it. Magradze was born in 1962 and while he had a brief spell in politics, he has been most involved in the arts. Check out a portion of his poem "The Poet's Morning."

  IV

The tragedy of my crippled friend 

Was plain 

This world made him unhappy by its shortness 

He tried to stand it for a time 

And then he-the miserable being  

Threw himself in the current (pool) of philosophy

He used the strict cynicism as a shield 

Against the love,

But would not elude.

 The mirror of this world 

And then he cried bitterly...

One dark night he seized a glittering sword

And fiercely struck it 

In the ribs of his tragedy 

And (he) made his soul 

Walk on the stilts