Hovhannes Grigoryan | Fathers’ land
FATHERS’ LAND I sing this song standing, since you are the one, for whose peace one dies without hesitation, since you are the one, for whom one fights without a command, whom one names — one & only, and misses from afar, And cries from longing for you in foreign cafes, and on ships, headed...
Vahan Teryan | She smiled at me
She smiled at me, the Nairian girl with slim waist, The Nairian girl –gloomy-eyed and modest, So bright was the face of the mountain-born, The glance so blazing and artless. And my Nairian sun as if glared also In the northern faraways and colds, As if in my field bloomed a flickering rose, And my...
Naira Hambardzumyan | Poetry for the chosen ones
POETRY FOR THE CHOSEN ONES In the beginning was the Time, Then the Word, then the Sin, then the Fig Leaf, And the again – the Time; and what has not been said still Is roaming in the cave. When God created the world, Created the man, created the song, But the song is...
Hovhannes Tumanyan | The Reading of the Universe
You who gave me a gaze toward the skies To reach the higher ends, dive in the Sun, You who gave me a mind heavenly and vast To measure the measureless, its awesome gaps afar. You who tied us, took hold of my soul, Instilling in there the endless, its joy, Lit up a smile...
Kostandin Yerznkatsi | Others malign me of envy
Others chock-full of envy mean evil down with me For I compose a poetry that is a treasure sweet. They say, ‘How does his tonque have such delicacy, That among us non can compete or withstand that rivalry?’ Deceived by the dark, doomed to be blind In slumber they’ll never know ‘bout riches that I...
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...
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,...
Zareh Khrakhuni | The unowned field
It is waiting. On this side of the dam The thirsty field is waiting To fulfill its thirst. On the other side The reservoir is swollen With water. It is waiting. On this side of the dam The field is waiting To be immersed. On the other side A river bleeds the water away Like...
Silva Zanoyan Merjanian | Under my skin
Silva Zanoyan Merjanian is a widely published poet who grew up in Beirut, Lebanon. She moved to Geneva during the Lebanese civil war after personally experiencing the devastation of her beloved country. She later settled in California to raise her two sons with her husband. Her poetry reflects a little of what she took with...
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