Molba
You have no fear of God, you hero?
Don’t heed the Devil’s whisperings!
Don’t turn me down, old man,
If you’re a true believer in God.
I’m a slave of the Gudan Cross,
A Khevsur devoted to the faith.
You wag your tongue all just in vain,
There’s no point in dissolute talk!
You wag your tongue all just in vain,
There’s no point in dissolute talk.
Please, don’t see it as a mortal sin,
The sacred sacrifice for Mutsal!
Look, people, here’s your neighbor
Has no respect for our faith.
He sacrificed with his own hand
A steer for a lowly Kistin!
What does he think, that bragging
fiend?
That our community will spare him?
May he be damned by the Creator!
He does not deserve our pity!
Come close up around me,
The Khevsur sons, unless
We set the fire go free
Aluda won’t come to sense!
Let’s go burn and pillage
His home, and henceforth,
Exposed by the whole village,
He’ll seek his haven by a foreign berth!
Destroy the scoundrel’s tower,
Burn his supply of wheat and rye!
May our hearts exult over the flower
Of fire rising to the sky!
His sheep and goats we’ll make to
Our communal property.
May he be damned by the Creator!
He does not deserve our pity!
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