Know all, who search for knowledge deep –
Hear David’s words and wisdom’s call –
If you seek happiness and good,
First taste the bitterness of gall,
For bitter roots yield sweetest fruits,
And honest labour blesses all.
On him whose joy is wrought from woe
The blows of life like mercy fall.
The moment woman bears a son,
Of love and suffering begot,
Her heart swells forth in joy and pride,
And every griping pang’s forgot.
The gardener is glad to see
Grapes clustered in his garden-plot.
Thus wisdom to the wise brings calm
And makes him master of his lot.
Know, wisdom leaves you not till death,
Is your companion true fore’er.
No man can steal it or destroy,
Divide or carry off a share.
All else can artful tricks beguile,
And in a deep-laid trap ensnare.
Devoid of wisdom, the fleeting world
Makes life a chaos of despair.
True wisdom guides his followers
On life’s perplexing thorny way,
Possesses treasures, wealth galore,
That none can find or on it prey.
No hand can soil its purity,
Nor lead it captive ‘neath its sway.
‘Tis worthless in the hands of fools,
For knowledge helps find wisdom’s ray.
A warrior deprived of arms
Joined in a fierce and strenuous fight,
A tiger rushing on its prey
With clawless paws to kill and smite
Are doomed to fall, in vain their strife,
In vain their eagerness for might.
Thus blind is he who knowledge lacks,
For learning gives to wisdom sight.
Unrivalled is true wisdom’s worth,
Its power is beyond compare.
The wise have yearned the right to live
Through every triumph or despair.
Deep-bedded in the lofty mind
Is wisdom’s magic lore fore’er.
The wise for bread to none will kneel,
But I must cringe to get my share.
Words are the weapons of the wise;
The worker’s skill is in his hand;
The churchman’s merit is his prayers,
The merchant’s – when on distant strand;
The brave shed blood, the ploughman – sweat
For love and honour of his land;
The beggar begs from door to door.
Which would you have at your command?
Above were named the seven ways
Of getting money for one’s bread.
The eighth – to be a mighty king
With jewelled crown upon his head.
The ninth – a shepherd on the hills
With grazing sheep before him spread;
The tenth – a sighing, love-sick swain
Who by the chain of love is led.
A lover and a scholar wise,
A soldier eager for a fight,
A priest, a beggar seeking alms,
A merchant and a king of might;
Let me present to you, my friends,
Each of the ten in his true light.
Then choose the one you wish to be
And make of it your life’s delight!
(David Guramishvili)
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