Hold in high respect… with ardor
The inward customs and order,
The virtue bestowed on you –
The dear and sacred gift…
And let no one, even your son
To neglect your main foothold,
To ignore it!
Some have snatched away the emotions,
They’ve spent their life licking others boots…
The utter fool is proud of his folly,
And the mischievous sneak hangs about…
You are able to repulse
That assault of flattery
With well-known and noble means…
You just don’t forget, and believe
Such order takes roots in the heavens…
18.09.2001
Translated from Georgian