The Man in the Panther's Skin, 1912
1573. Then P’hridon begged leave of him. "I will go home," quoth he; "my foot will oft tread this court and land if thou wilt command me as an elder to a younger. I shall desire thee as the deer the fountain.”
1574. As presents for Rostevan, he (Tariel) made him (Avt’handil) take with him beautiful little mantles, also a vessel (full) of cut gems, not spoons (ful), not ladles(ful). "Take them from me, go," quoth he, "disobey me not!" Avt’handil said: "I know not how I shall survive without thee!"
1575. The lady (Nestan) sent to the lady (T’hinat’hin) a little cloak and a veil; who save hers was worthy of such garments! A jewel–he who carried it off could not say: "I have carried it in vain!"–at night it gives light like the sun; it is visible wherever thou lookest.
1576. Avt’handil mounted, he departed, he said farewell to Taria, the flame of the fire of separation burned them both; all the Indians wept, the tear moistened the mead. Avt’handil said: "The poison of this world slays me!"
1577. P’hridon and Avt’handil journeyed together for a few days; the road separated them, each went his way weeping; the things they had planned had turned out well for them; Avt’handil came to Arabia, he had not seen troubles in vain.
1578. The Arabs came forth to meet him, he beautified the realm; he saw his sun, the affliction of his desires fled; he sat with her on the throne, he rejoiced at the joy of the onlookers. The Most High from above endued his crown with sovereignty.
1579. Those three sovereigns loved one another, they visited one another, their desires were fulfilled, they that disputed their rule were put to the sword, they enlarged their kingdoms, they were sovereign, they increased their might.
1580. They poured down mercy like snow on all alike, they enriched orphans and widows and the poor did not beg, they terrified evildoers; the ewes could not suckle the lambs, within their territories the goat and the wolf fed together.
1581. Their tale is ended like a dream of the night. They are passed away, gone beyond the world. Behold the treachery of time; to him who thinks it long, even for him it is of a moment. I a certain Meskhian bard of the borough of Rust’havi, I write (this).
1582. For the god (goddess–i.e., king, queen, T’hamara) of the Georgians, whom David the sun serves in his course, I have put this story into verse, for her (pl. maj.) entertainment who strikes terror from East to West, consuming those who are traitors to her, strengthening those who are loyal.
1583. How shall I sing to David's harp, attuned and loud-sounding, these wondrous (rare) tales of strange, foreign monarchs! Old-time customs and deeds, praises (eulogies) of those kings, have I found and done into verse. Thus have we chattered!
1584. This is such a world as is not to be trusted by any; it is a moment to the eyes of men, and only long enough for the blinking of the eyelashes. What seek you, what do you? Fate is an insulter. For him whom Fate deceives not it is better to be (happy) in both (worlds).
1585. Mose Khoneli praised Amiran, son of Daredjan; Shavt’heli, whose poem they admired, praised Abdul-Mesia; Sargis T’hmogveli, the unwearying-tongued (praised) Dilarget’h; Rust’haveli (praised) Tariel, for whom his tear unceasing flows.
