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

Monday, 24 May 2010

Seta Krikorian - APRIL 24

In my scorched mind
You writhe again
Merciless date
And petal by petal
The lilies of my spring
Fall from my soul

I am cold…

With your grieving gaze
You verbalize:
“Why do your flowers fade
When you reach me?”

I only half breathe…

I know
You are a number
A buttoned figure of two and four

You are more…

A silent collapse
Raises in me bastions of wrath
And my answer is attired in scarlet
From my slaughtered land’s mute meadows
The bleeding vessels of my martyred race
Stifle the walls of my skull once more…

Oh! Do not turn to charcoal
Do not smolder under my dark gaze
Speak out
Tell me
How shall I shroud the shrieks
Of my million-and-a-half martyrs
So that my memory shall no longer shudder
At the nightmare inherited by blood
Which is as much mine
As my father’s mother’s grandmother’s…?

You are blameless
Yet you are bound to boundless Der Zor

You possess no sword
Yet you bear a khachqar smashed by sword

With no Case to pursue
You are now Diaspora scattered to the winds
Where I reside
Yet I am halved…

To what does the other half relate?

Oh! It is You It is You
Merciless Date…

Seta Krikorian
Translated by Tatul Sonentz

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