(On the motifs of isopolyphony)(By Jorgo S. TELO)
For the high plateau of ÇajupOh, how much has been written!Through the centuries, the decades.Everyone has marveled…
Refrain after every stanza:Oh Çajup,garden of flowers,You hold the mostblessed of futures!
Like a green valley-bowlA giant – amphitheater…With springs in every cornerAs if competing with Paradise.
There the mountains look like hillsA secret of the altitude…There the field is like a feast-tableWith all the bounties…
There the greenery cannot be containedFrom edge to edge your eyes find rest.There the air has its shelter;The purest in the Orbit.
Flowers blooming – mountain and plateauTo see who has the most colorsWhat do those slopes not hold…!Tea and flowers, green grass.
Not to mention when across the slopesThe sheep and goats break into a run…!The bleating cannot be containedThe beauties cannot be contained…
It is no wonder even the gods,To rest as gracefully as can beWill come down some dayTo this most magical place…
