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

Saturday, 12 June 2010

Henrik Edoyan - TWO SONNETS FOR MY MOTHER

1.
Sorrow has no image, it is relayed
only as fate and shade of love
that shivered, shone in your eyes
like immortal lights in holy Eden,
where there is no pain, no wound, no dungeon
to scourge the distressed body,
to turn life to stone, day to sunset
and to turn word to mute silence.
But you managed to walk that route
like a pilgrim and to keep within you
the thorns, dispensed to you by fate,
as a stern angel, with extended hand said,
“Can you bear this?’ You replied,
“Thy will be done; let me have it.”

2.
The world as dream and love as victim,
you imbibed life from God’s hands;
what you drank was bitter, but through the prayers
a visage watched you, flooded in the light
of your ancient heritage. Loss, death and famine –
but that which was past, you bore within you,
and to all passers-by you offered it as bread
of salvation and host of hope
in the palm of your hand. There in Eden,
a brush emanates light and in silent tenderness
a different flower bows its head
on your bushes, as in a faint glow
your life, which you have lived, passes by
like an autumn cloud over this somber earth.


Henrik Edoyan
Translated by Tatul Sonentz

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