Blackbirdan online journal of literature and the artsSpring 2012 v11n1
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translation from the Georgian by Nene Giorgadze and Timothy Kercher

[New days are like the changing of water.]

New days are like the changing of water.
It’s evening and from far away you see
people’s withering ikebana flowers
in the vase of the city.
When the sun goes down,
the neighbors gradually open all the curtains.
And I clearly see—
she who worries about everything moderately,
she who darns the tattered members of her family,
and one who doesn’t know where to go,
closes her eyes, buries her head in her arms.    

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