Nane Vardanyan | The history of world
1 Initially there was only Adam. God created him on the sixth day and Adam become the most perfect living organism. He was the best in everything- he was the fastest, the smartest, the most beautiful, and the funniest and most experienced… He was God’s favorite. One day the snake just asked him: “Why do...
Eghishe Charents | The starry wanderers
We are two starry wanderers, Two wanderers in rags, That loved the sadness of our souls The dreamy yearning, the astral love, In love with sadness of our souls, Some dreamy yearning, some astral love. And we fall for illusion and dream, Where we drift and wander ceaselessly, Endlessly riding into the sun, We see...
Marineh Khachadour | Home
(An excerpt from a memoir titled Lenin And Me told in a voice of a young girl growing up in Soviet Armenia in the ‘70s.) Act VIII So many of us, kids in the neighborhood, like to play in the dumpster behind the back doors and the fences of our homes. Pieces of concrete and...
Lilit Margaryan | Why is Zabel Yessayan an important author who should be taught in Armenian Schools
Zabel Yessayan is one of the most prominent and important writers of Armenian literature of the 20th century, our greatest female writer, who is totally abandoned in Armenia and is widely unknown to the public. Her works are not included in school books, nor have they been subjected to serious academic studies, and none of...
Violeta Balian | The Concubine
VIOLETA BALIÁN is an Argentine author and translator born in Buenos Aires of an Armenian father and a German mother. She studied History, Archaeology/Anthropology as well as Humanities at San Francisco State University (California) and spent many years in the United States. In 2012 she published her first novel, the sci-fi thriller El expediente Glasser...
Marineh Khachadour | A Letter to My Mother
Dear Mother, Here I am in my beloved Armenia again, away from you. I know you resisted my return to the homeland mainly because you wanted me near you, so you would care for me and protect me like you always have. I have felt safe and secure in your belly, in your arms, in...
Mher Arshakyan | Woe to us…
Our life changes every day. And woe to us, if we have no role in those changes. And again woe to us, if we have a role and the result is this. Woe to actors, who return home through a backdoor of life, where even the creak of the door is unchanged. Woe to journalists,...
Marineh Khachadour | Children of War
My husband has purchased an old Zhiguli from a Yezidi young man for $400. It is white with golden velvet interior. “Fit for a lamb,” Charlie jokes as he straps Arpa, our almost two-year-old son, on the back seat. I sit next to him, so I may quickly reach for him if a need arises....
Souren Sarumyan | The Burner of Memories
The boy was carefully hiding Grandpa’s photo under the mattress with his head on the pillow, pretending asleep. On the weather-stained photo Grandpa was still young – he was standing by a big round table and sadly smiling. Grandpa’s fists were big, almost in size with the table. Even in the dead of the night,...
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