Tadevos Tonoyan | The return of Niburu
THE RETURN OF NIBURU August. The sky smells sweetly with stars: My family tree has reached the sky, And from the thorny shrubs of star-spikes Is rising again the Niburu – hope of mine. Cherishing Niburu returns to see How has grown my family tree Which’s been grafted upon the last kiss Bidding farewell with...
Hrant Alexsanian | Selected poems
Don’t get angry Winds can come into your veins, into your bedroom, the secret dwelling of your agitations,- they have private reckonings with you and your last will and testament, God knows only what kind of wind gave birth to you.- The winds beat you down when you’re half asleep. A hand can implicate you...
Henrik Edoyan | Three days without the Lord
THE RUINS OF ACROPOLIS Time passes over me now like a blind bird leaving a feather with which I write on the gaping call of my memory the names of men things cities’ This is the image of a fina; assurance, these are the ruins of Acropolis among which entangles the stare of a casual...
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