There, where are the alpine meadows,
Where snow lies in the folds of mountains,
Green rug on the slopes
Growing rhododentron bushes,
Dense coniferous forests,
Where streams and rivers flow from the mountains,
There at the foot of Trialeti,
From the top of the sharp Kodiani
To the Tskhra-tskharo pass
Pontian village lives
With a Georgian name.
**********************
Tsihis-jvari - in translation
In local language, among the people,
There is - "fortified shrine cross"
Spiritual symbol of these places.
Here, in past centuries
The mountain village was.
Only traces of buildings remain,
Witness those troubled years.
**********************
Our ancestors fled here,
Fate offended Greeks,
From Muslim genocide,
To the land of the Kartvelians - Christian.
The village grew from year to year,
People came from Pontus.
Church first - from the early days,
And the bell tower next to her.
Built in the center of the village,
Where the rock rises.
**********************
By stone, tree, metal
There were many masters,
On your own, persistently
House building started.
Dairy artel and school
Arrived very soon.
**********************
Enough work for the whole year,
In the spring - first the garden,
Then came hay and firewood,
Their transfer to the village.
Served as transport,
Irreplaceable arba.
**********************
And weddings, farewell to the soldiers
And all the tragic dates
The villagers celebrated together,
Without any self-interest and flattery.
**********************
Frequent bell ringing
Informed the villagers,
What - "today there will be dancing
On the platform behind the bridge,
Ol elaten so horon!»
To the sound of the lyre, campfire light,
The youth of the whole village,
Songs sang and danced
Until the very morning.
**********************
You won't find a yard like this,
So that the children do not study,
As a result, people from the village:
Engineers, teachers, pilots and doctors
Scattered in all directions,
Their roads have moved away from their native hearth.
**********************
The native village was adored,
Came here for vacation,
Almost always in the forest,
Mushrooms, raspberries were harvested.
And picnics, ...and kebabs!
We remember these days.
**********************
After all, it was remarkable
There is mineral water,
One spring for the whole village,
Nicknamed "futo-nero"
**********************
And sulfur baths "chormik"
And the icy forest spring,
"Ti paputca ké ti popa"
We often dream of those places.
**********************
We survived two wars.
The sacrifices were great.
We remember the tears of mothers
And their dead sons,
We remember the collapse of the country,
How did we become refugees?.
**********************
Years have passed, decades,
More like a century and a half,
Like the church of our village
Divine services began,
Gotta count, what is this date
There is a year (1861) the birth of the village.
**********************
I want to congratulate all the villagers,
living, not living there,
You in the anniversary year of the village
health, happiness and kindness!
Poems: Иванова (Ioannidi) Vladimir Klimentievich
PS: Eternal memory and low bow ...
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