He has closed eyes, and did not breathe almost....
- Why I do not have wings... - has thought he so sad...
Stood up behind blackberry to bushes...
And secretly tracked down to dance of nymphs...
Oh, as he wished to sense close her rustle ringlets...
But a trouble roots grew in that that at luxury in the earth...
Has transformed to an the oak...
And now the nymphs... under its branch,
They rests and do not suspect generally,
Whence the wind has brought this melancholy song...

24.01.09.

Tsira Gogeshvili

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/n-dance-of-nymphs/