Monday, January 05, 2009

Milena Abrahamyan: Armenian

Mother,
do not speak the mountains
unstable under my feet.
Tongue in my mouth
does not taste words
jan jigyar,
does not rise
from its sleep to speak new words.
The roots rot in pots
outside the balcony
where roses bloomed
every spring.
When we came to dig
this earth made fertile
by the bodies of slaves,
we left the sun
on the other side
of the Atlantic.

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