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

Thursday, 4 August 2011

Daniel Varoujan - THE CARTS

The carts move on the village road
At sunset, loaded with crops,
Looking like pyramids in motion
Clad in fading rays.

Boys with deep tans, piled on top,
Spur now and then
The quivering, shimmering flanks
Of the giant oxen.

Mulish buffalos, extend rearward
Their murky tongues
Unraveling the sheaves that gush
Over their shoulders.

The wheat, awash in the blood
Of the setting sun
Turn into a new wreath on the tiara
Of their horns.

The road to the threshing floors
Ripples with husks, which
Straggling chickens sift through
With joyous beaks.

The road is fair, the road is red,
And on both its sides,
The over ripe blackberry tree
Pours its blood.

The carts proceed, screaming
In the surrounding
Serenity… they carry huge stacks
Of sunshine and fire.

They carry an ever-rising deluge
Of sweat, of hope,
Pouring down endless from yoke
To both wheels.

The boys sing, ever spurring
The oxen’s flanks…
In immaculate infinity, rocked
By the shaking load.

They sing like cicadas, like sickles,
They sing like the wind,
Till they reach threshing grounds
And expand like the sea.

Daniel Varoujan
Translated by Tatul Sonentz

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