Breaking down cultural barriers
Transposer une culture dans une autre par delà les barrières culturelles

Friday, 22 January 2010


(...To a Century of Khachuhis…)

In the desert
where nothing grows
but silence
disturbed only
by the wind that shifts
the sands of time
and the dunes of eternity
whose gaping gates
now open wide
to receive the remains
of humanity…

In the desert
where the sun bleaches
the very soul of all things
alive with the breath
of life and will of God
walk the skeletons
of those who used to be
man woman and child
father mother sister and son
now an endless spread
of human carrion
an infernal feast
for vulture and jackal
and manlike beast…

In the desert
far from the highlands
the ancient seed of Haik
is burned as incense
to the glory of Bel and Cain
who slew Abel and fled Eden
to plant and grow blades of sin
in the blood soaked
soil of the east
birthplace of a sun
now heading ever west
in its futile journey
in quest of a place of rest…

In the desert
there are no cranes
soaring silent above a land
whose tillers have been mowed
felled by the scythe
of hatred and greed
of crimson dreams of empire
like a rising tide
flowing red from east to west
and back to a mythical east
of Ergenekon
foaming with fury
in a savage rampage
to a final conquest and lasting glory
of the crescent moon
reflected in a sea of blood
flowing from sacked highlands
covered with gore
and scorched fields
to the searing sands of Der Zor
where no crane on the wing
ever soared or hovered over a dune
to answer the strangled call
and silenced quest of news
from the quick and the dead…

Far from the desert
daughters of austere Aramazd
and chaste Anahit
fearless Vahagn and
fair Astghik
hear the curdling call
of kindred flesh and blood
poured as fuel onto the flames
of a resurgent Hades
now called Der Zor…
Summoned by the desert
Behold! They stand in searing sorrow
like luminous legions of mercy
and succor
to be counted once more
and to don the white vestments
of the bearers of the cross
both blood red and sky blue
and rush to rescue
what is left of Haik’s seed
with faith in their creed
defying the snarls and howls
of the lupine brood of Cain
and Bel, Hazgerd
and Hamid
these daughters and sisters
of Hripsimeh and Gayaneh
and the intrepid consort
to the early spring of righteous uprising –
the heroic Soseh!
march to the desert armed
with the cross and heart of mercy
and with unbound faith
in God and country…

And for a century since
the dark desert days
of the gathering crimson clouds
of the great crime of the century
these bearers of the cross
these mothers sisters wives
and daughters
of the house of Haik and Armenak
still stand to be counted
to gently wipe away
the blood and the tears
of the wounded the widow
and the orphans’ fears…

For another hundred years…

Tatul Sonentz

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