ARMENIAN POETRY PROJECT

Though I go my way calmly, humble in countenance, know, my love, my soul is loud with rebuke, my mien restrained, my desire fierce. ...

the wind spoke to me I went to the orchard, leaves came down of every kind with busy whisperings I could not understand. Selected po...

In my presence the men work feverishly at their tasks denying themselves tobacco and conversation. In my absence, like air bags expir...

We go to the meadow, a small army, We are going to gather mushrooms, and fire wood. We carry spade and axe and gunny sacks. Nothing ...

The guests sat on the new sofa, they talked of old things we sat on old chairs and talked of new things. They talked of new things and...

Archie (Khatchik) Minasian passed away 25 years ago on Thanksgiving. His concise, beautiful poems have long been favorites of mine and reade...

We sit, and gazing on the hills My thoughts to wild. I see the road that led me to her house in snow. And Autumn just begun, I cannot be...

The wind, playing in the violets, sprang upon me. Oh! I thought, if I could be so familiar with her. ____________________________ ...

Click here for the audio clip The Little Feet read by Lola Koundakjian. We mark a patch of early snow with little feet quite deep and neat....

We look at Goethe, and Schiller, huge bronze statues in the park, and we think, someday we'll be like them -- you Goethe and I S...

Click on the audio link The Cure read by Lola Koundakjian. Restless, I pace my little room, swing the windows and look out. The trees on th...

In our youth neigbor Sanasar and I passed for twins. Now that time has passed, I wonder if we haven't taken too long to discover there&#...

While my friends sought the glitter, I followed my inner joys, tramping the gardens and the wilds in harmony with nature. I bared my soul an...

the wind threw rose petals at me, tugged my hair and pushed me around. flattered I ran with the wind and called it names. __________...