One of the ancient capitals of Georgia is Mtskheta. It is built between two rivers – Aragva and the Kura, in it stands one of the most beautiful cathedrals of Svetitskhoveli.
Somehow one Russian general was carrying a captive child, but he did not take it, because the child was ill and left him in the city of Mtskheta, with the monastery. The child grows, he was baptized and raised in Christian customs. Mtsyri – that’s the name of the child, has long ago forgotten his language. He begins to prepare for a monastic vow.
On that day, when the city overtook the strongest thunderstorm, the child disappeared. He was searched for three days, but this does not bring any result. After a while, the boy is found near the mountains, in the vicinity of the city of Mtskheta.
He is without strength, without feelings, lies on the bare, sun-scorched earth, and delivers him to the monastery. The young man woke up. Monks try to interrogate him or at least feed him, he is exhausted and looks ill with a serious ailment. A young man refuses any food. When the monks understand that Mtsyri wants to end his existence, they send a black man behind the very monk who once took him to the monastery as a child, cured him and baptized him. Already quite an elderly monk still loves his pupil because he spent with him not a little time. The monk accepts that the youth no longer wishes to live and only asks him to repent of the sins of the deceased and to accept.
Mtsyri does not believe that his act is bold. He is proud of his actions. As it turned out, he still remembers his native open spaces, how he was free, how he merged with nature, breathed her, thought like her. He remembered mountain leopards. He remembered how, without a weapon, he could join in combat with the beast, the owner of his wild forests. Only in this way he could prove that, along with the rest of the men, he is worthy to live in the land of his fathers and grandfathers.
So many years have passed, but as soon as he left the monastery he could remember his childhood and the language of his native lands, aul and even the faces... of his parents, brothers and sisters. While Mtsyri told about how he wandered in the mountains, what he experienced, he describes the black man, how wonderful it is to be in a fusion with nature, how important is the primordial nature of his homeland.
And only a word given to himself as a child, he does not want to violate, because he considers it a perjury. He promised himself that someday he would find his way home and return to his homeland. And he almost did it, he remembered that it was necessary to keep to the east all the time. He walked day after day, night after night, but unexpectedly realizes that he is returning to where he started his journey to the nearest neighborhood of the city of Mtskheta, near the monastery at which he grew up at which he served not his service. He realized that this was the most important oversight in his life. Mtsyri describes that every day spent in a monastery seemed to him a prison, because only so he perceived the life spent here. Here he is weakened by body and spirit.
He could no longer find his way home, as if he had lost the “beam-guide” for many years, because every mountaineer possessed the bestial instinct of the path leading him home, every born he receives with mother’s milk and without him it is impossible to live in the wild environment of the central part of the Caucasus no one, no man, no beast. Mtsyri left, but could not leave prison in his soul because of the civilization that he had instilled in him since childhood. He was not bothered so much by his wounds, and the gore that sucked to his body. He was killed only one thing, he lost his instinct, thirst for it, with which the children of the mountains come to life. He no longer wants to live in slavery with himself, only wants to die, humbly, blaming no one.
He asks the monks to dig him a grave on the side of his native mountains, the place from which they can be seen. He asks this because he wants to feel at least after death how the wind will bring his native speech from his land to him, and maybe a song like that…