| Author | Epoch | Work | Type | Quote | Term |
|---|
| Ioseb Grishashvili | 1889-1965 | I am going (Ioseb Grishashvili, Selected Works, Tbilisi, 1959) | Poetry | “You must know, that the sun Was sent to you by the Muse of the poet”. (pg. 376) |
|
| Ioseb Grishashvili | 1889-1965 | In the ruins of the motherland (Ioseb Grishashvili, Selected Works, Tbilisi, 1959) | Poetry | “Do not tell me , please, that my Muse reiterates the same again and again, - […] Then I’ll be transformed, as well as the Muse will open its eyes too”. (pg. 368) |
|
| Ioseb Grishashvili | 1889-1965 | At the concert of waves (Ioseb Grishashvili, Selected Works, Tbilisi, 1959) | Poetry | “Who knows, when I send my regards through the Zephyr of mountains”. (pg. 366) |
|
| Ioseb Grishashvili | 1889-1965 | With the arrow of tear (Ioseb Grishashvili, Selected Works, Tbilisi, 1959) | Poetry | “Where is she, where, the young Amor full of love?” (pg. 360) |
|
| Ioseb Grishashvili | 1889-1965 | I do not have time for verse-making! (Ioseb Grishashvili, Selected Works, Tbilisi, 1959) | Poetry | “Dedicate a poem to me – the Muse told me, - dedicate it to me too” (pg. 358) |
|
| Ioseb Grishashvili | 1889-1965 | I swear (Ioseb Grishashvili, Selected Works, Tbilisi, 1959) | Poetry | “The Muse of a poet, likened your body to the ivory pillar” (pg. 350) |
|
| Ioseb Grishashvili | 1889-1965 | I uttered a groan (Ioseb Grishashvili, Selected Works, Tbilisi, 1959) | Poetry | “The way I loved you, oh, how I loved you! Even the Zeus could never imagine it!” (pg. 342) |
|
| Ioseb Grishashvili | 1889-1965 | I uttered a groan (Ioseb Grishashvili, Selected Works, Tbilisi, 1959) | Poetry | “The way I loved you, oh, how I loved you! Even the Zeus could never imagine it!” (pg. 342) |
|
| Ioseb Grishashvili | 1889-1965 | To Muse (Ioseb Grishashvili, Selected Works, Tbilisi, 1959) | Poetry | “Play the melody, sing the song of dawn, By which I’ll snatch the jug full of the tears from the Olympus Mountains”. (pg. 338) |
|
| Ioseb Grishashvili | 1889-1965 | The sun (Ioseb Grishashvili, Selected Works, Tbilisi, 1959) | Poetry | “Oh, I am crazy, crazy about The frolicsome Zephyr, tossed up from the sea”. (pg. 337) |
|
