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

Wednesday, 13 July 2011

Daniel Varoujan - FIRST SPROUTS

The swelling sap exploded all the seeds
Beneath the soil.  Tonight, under
The spring moon, my fields have turned green…
—Mother, bring me a sprout,
With the dew of my sweat on it.

Incensed, Incensed, they have run over,
Look, the new grown wheat.
The meadows have donned emerald garments
—Sister, bring me a sprout,
With my oxen’s dribble on it.

They shimmer from acre to distant acre
Like tiny, tiny green candles.
Each shoot holds a pearl in its mouth…
— Shepherd, bring me a sprout,
With the sun’s blush on it.

The tender flower of bread garnishes
The bare solitude of the soil.
Brown clods swim in the greenery…
— Bride, bring me a sprout,
With the scent of your fingers on it.

On its own, my almond tree has sprouted,
All alone In my budding fields…
— Mother, sister, shepherd, bride dearest,
Bring to me its flowers,
Bring me a pink flower
With the reaper’s hope on it.

Daniel Varoujan
Translated by Tatul Sonentz

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