History says, don’t hope
On this side of the grave.
But then, once in a lifetime
The longed-for tidal wave
Of justice can rise up,
And hope and history rhyme.So hope for a great sea-change
On the far side of revenge.
Believe that further shore
Is reachable from here.
Believe in miracle
And cures and healing wells.Call miracle self-healing:
The utter, self-revealing
Double-take of feeling.
If there’s fire on the mountain
Or lightning and storm
And a god speaks from the skyThat means someone is hearing
The outcry and the birth-cry
Of new life at its term.
From the Heart of Europe
Books, politics, languages and life
I’d love to believe there were pockets of Grussian wine-makers producing quality dry wines during the Soviet period. But, knowing what I do of how controlled and regulated everything was then, it’s not very likely.
The Supreme Soviet decreed what products and styles could be produced in any given year and their networks of spies and informers made it almost impossible to do otherwise. Farmers who defied the authorities had their land confiscated or dug up.
I looked at this red that was supposed to be Stalin’s favourite and my supermarket’s rather pricy version is labeled ‘semi-sweet’. The thing is that the majority of people really liked and continue to like this sweet crap. It’s taken 16 years of seriously hard work to get some small portion of the population to appreciate good wines.
Although, fortunately the wines we are getting from Gruusia here in Estonia are often stunning.
Isn’t Georgian food wonderful! I can buy proper Georgian bread in the supermarket now – made by ex-pats in a real clay oven.