The full-orbed moon her lustre sheds
And floods the land with lambent light.
The snowy ridge of distant mounts
Dissolves into the heavens bright.
Deep quiet holds the breath of night;
My mother-land in silence lies,
Yet oft is heard an anguished moan
As Georgia in her slumber sighs.
I stand alone... The mountains, shades,
The slumber of my land caress.
O God! O God! when will we wake
And rise again to happiness?

  The pale light of the full moon
Was streaming on the fatherland
And its white ray among the mountains
Hovered in deep blue space.

Nowhere a sound, nowhere a cry
Nothing born of parents stirred
Save sometimes crying in pain
Some Georgian sobbing in his sleep was heard.

Again alone... and the mountain's shade
Caressed my native land in sleep
Still sleep O God! Sleep, always sleep
When shalt thou deem us worthy to awake?

Ilia Chavchavadze
Translated by Marjory and Oliver Wardrops
Ganatleba Publishers
Tbilisi 1987