III

I rest my body on your grass,

And let my brain repose in you;

I feel these living moments pass,

And, from within myself to those far places

To be imagined in your times and spaces,

Deliberate the various acts you do:--

Sorting and re-arranging worlds of Matter

Keenly and wisely. Thus you brought our earth

Through stages, and from purpose back to purpose,

From fire to fog, to dust, to birth

Through beast to man, who led himself to brain--

Then you invoked him back to dust again.

By leave of you he places stone on stone;

He scatters seed: you are at once the prop

Among the long roots of his fragile crop.

You manufacture for him, and insure

House, harvest, implement and furniture,

And hold them all secure.

Georgian Poetry 1918-19 · 第 103 / 156 题