Here’s a short poetic piece inspired by that phrase:
Hear me in the alphabet that curves like vines, in the scratch of a chonguri string, in the silence between two clinking horns. duy beni qartulad
Feel me in Kartlian — not hurried, not pragmatic, but tangled in polyphonic threads, three voices climbing one mountain, falling, catching each other before the drop. Here’s a short poetic piece inspired by that
Hear me in Georgian — not with the sharp edge of Istanbul traffic, but with the slow, heavy vowels of Tbilisi at dusk, where the Mtkvari turns wine-dark and every balcony hides a story. Say my name like a supra toast, glass
Say my name like a supra toast, glass raised to ghosts and strangers alike. Let the khinkali juice run down your chin — messy truth is the only kind worth swallowing.