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Poetry
Ana Arzoumanian | She, the never daughter

Ana Arzoumanian | She, the never daughter

1- Everything started with a lie, fumigating. Puffs of stink in the hands, combustion of blows in the country emptied out of bodies; religious stroke of disinfection.
Vahe Arsen | By the path of the lost sun

Vahe Arsen | By the path of the lost sun

TOWARDS YOUR INSOMNIA Midnight stands like a soldier waiting for the war’s end, a dream within a dream in thick night air that catches fire and blazes suddenly, not seeing its twin. I was there hurrying toward your insomnia under the crackling clay of the roofs, with the city a whitening star in my palm....
Nshan Abasyan | I am Telling You

Nshan Abasyan | I am Telling You

I am Telling You Today you are more disgusting than ever. You are ignorant and braggart. You are naked and wretched. You hate obedience and lick your vassal’s feet. You’ve been deceived, fool! There’s litter in your plate. You’re not pure-blooded. You sneer your God. You envy your savior. You sell your wife,coward! Do not...
Hrant Alexsanian | Selected poems

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...
Hovhannes Grigoryan | Never die

Hovhannes Grigoryan | Never die

“Never die”, appealed my father to me in the deathbed.
Henrik Edoyan | Three days without  the Lord

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...
Vardan Hakobyan | On the other side of horizon

Vardan Hakobyan | On the other side of horizon

  ON THE OTHER SIDE OF HORIZON The words told by silence are deeper than when you try to speak: the sadness, the flower and the sky always whisper in my ear. No one speaks while kissing: no matter how far are the stars, they’re mine. No one speaks while creating: the mind is freedom....
Arqmenik Nikoghosyan | The main tendencies of the development of modern Armenian poetry

Arqmenik Nikoghosyan | The main tendencies of the development of modern Armenian poetry

1. Nowadays it seems to be possible to divide the Armenian poetry of the independence period into different parts. The poetry of 1990s is a complete entity in all respects and can be analysed as a separate phase. Literary nonstop process seems to form the next phase and some skids and circulation are determined by...
Karen Antashyan | Ea

Karen Antashyan | Ea

While unaware of everlasting easily starting and hardly ending fuss between women and men from a humble dawn sunflower you dropped, a dew and passed under orange-peach trees filling with yourself or life-o-love-o-lightly