Friday, August 31, 2012
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Խանդավառված քո սիրո հիշատակը՝ նորից պաշարում է ինձ,
Ու մի մեղմահոս շշունջ իմ հոգու խորքերից քեզ պահանջում է:
Այս միգամած երկինքի տակ անընդհատ ես քեզ եմ փնտռում,
Այս անսիրտ աշխարհում ինձ համար քո վառող սիրտն է թանկագին.
Մի թողնիր ինձ որ ապրեմ մենակ քո հրաշալի հիշատակում,
Օ՜, վերադարձիդ բեր քո լիառատ խանդաղատանքը՝ սրտագին:
U n d e r N e b u l o u s S k y
Your spiritual image remains pure in my heart,
While time goes by to erase the ever resting deed of your hands,
The exhilarated memory of your love surrounds me again,
As a softly flowing whisper claims you within my bosom.
Under this nebulous sky not a single guiding star shines,
In this heartless world your affection is the dearest still,
Don’t let me live alone in your wonderful memory,
Upon your return, bring the living devotion of your heart.
Translated by the author
Monday, August 27, 2012
What’s left of the sunlit days of holidays?
Of the golden sun of a summer now complete?
A cloudy sky gloomy as my dejected gaze,
And a pair of worn sandals from your feet.
What’s left of an ever-green seeming days?
Grand ventures now a mere crumbling mess,
Broad avenues now narrowed to mere byways
And a horizon as barren as a wilderness
What’s left of those budding loves and trysts?
A meager memory that dissipates already,
Aging desires, melancholy as descending mists…
And my Anna, my own lyric melody.
……………………….. Hagop Jelalian
Translated by Tatul Sonentz
Sunday, August 26, 2012
If Anoush were holding her child
and watching the sheep
carted off like men to the slaughter
and Armenag in his dark vest and trousers
were hobbling barefoot in the village square
toward the pockmarked wall
and Ashod in his prison cell
were counting the sprigs of parsley
that must be rising in his garden now
if Araxi were razor-thin by the roadside
dreaming of a while mountain
turning red in the alpenglow
if Antranig refusing to walk
were shod like a horse
and tethered in his own pasture
and Azniv were a wet nurse now
to a battalion of mouths
her infant slit clean in the straw
how long would it have to go on then
beginning with A and spilling over
into all the alphabets
before mother sister father child
could wear the same faces in any language
This poem has appeared in So I will till the ground, published by Carnegie Mellon University Press in 2007. It has previously appeared in Poetry Magazine in 2002 and Ararat in 2004. An audio recording of the author reading his piece is available by clicking on the link below.
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Friday, August 24, 2012
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Christine Orchanian Adler is a writer and editor whose poetry has appeared in Coal: A Poetry Anthology, Penumbra, Tipton Poetry Journal, and online at Bird and Moon, Damselfly Press, The Furnace Review, LiteraryMama and elsewhere, and is forthcoming in Inkwell Journal. She holds a Master’s Degree in Creative Writing from Manhattanville College. Her articles, essays and book reviews have appeared in various publications throughout the Northeastern United States and Canada. She blogs at www.feedalltheanimals.blogspot.com, and lives in New York with her husband and two sons.
This poem has appeared in Coal: A Poetry Anthology, and is reprinted by kind permission of the author.