NELLY  TARBA
She was born in village Duripsh (Abkhazia) and graduated from Sukhum state pedagogical institute.
She is author of 20 collections of verses in Abkhaz and Russian languages.
 

ROOTS OF OUR ANCESTORS

(from Kabardian series)
Lowering eyes down,
Raising eyes to the sky,
I made my way through mountains,
With Southern wind that was not here.
With wet and salty wind,
With wind that kissed the sea,
I made my way with the dark sun,
That was in the Southern sea.
Perhaps, lure was sweet,
Because by blue road,
I came as a prisoner,
Captured by you.
Because somebody“s horses
Galloped through my dreams,
Because our roots
Didn“t leave me in peace.
Because our ancestors were
Of one blood, brothers.
But they were lost
And now I can“t get them togerher.
Where are they forgotten, where are     they buried,
Where did they sprout in flowers?
...Far mountains are covered
By bleached linens.
Everything here is familar,
From ancient times till now
Our languages are alike,
They are relatives by blood.
It seems that in an instant
Necessary word will turn up,
As destiny, as revelation,
Common song will sound.
But go these roots
To iaccesible depths,
Now clutch as children at a skirt,
Now are again ivisible.
As a hidden treasure confided to oath,
They hide themselves from me,
Sprout in abundance,
Fill grains with sap.
And while I roamed
In a land which became nice,
Magic power of those roots
Braid my heart with network.
It disappeared suddenly,
And again stretched to me,
But it came into me forever,
When I returned home.
             Translated from  abkhazian
CONTENTS