By Avik Derentz
Translated by Tatul Sonentz
This White Slaughter
This white slaughter
Saps my soul
With an alien venom of black sorcery,
As it strives to defile
My very blood
With the dark doubts of a renegade…
I fight each day
This murky darkness,
Despoiling half the night in a fading light,
My day retreats
In countless defeats,
How can I subside on mere penitence…?
***
Matchless Miracle
Who came up with
And meted out
So much lament and such pain
To Armenia and Armens —
Rocks and stones,
Storms of tears on both peaks
of Massis…?
Who came up with
And meted out
So many dreams, so much love,
To Armenia and Armens —
Countless monuments
To endless, majestic
Mysteries…
In fruit-scented,
Fertile fields,
Heaven-reaching proud peaks,
Sacred carvings
On ancient cross-stones —
Messages of imminent radiant days
In today’s dreams…?
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