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

Tuesday, 13 September 2011


Mary, when you sit on this bed
And I, on the rug, kneeling in front of you
Kiss the cerulean veins
Of those light-secreting hands of yours,
Mary, beneath my warm lips I sense
A being, that swig by swig, imbibes your blood in silence.

From that night, when you exposed your bosom,
Letting your hair flow in abandon
On that pillow, and in extreme ecstasy,
Sweat streamed down your temples,
And death took the virginity
In your womb and azure eyes --
From that night, honey flowed from the eyelashes
Of your lids -- you became docile,
Soft spoken -- you turned into that snow-white
Feathered dove, that nestled under the sun,
Dreams of the nest yet to be built…  

Now, I gaze upon the dulcet fade out
Of your face and, through your open blouse,
Your breasts, where your life and you split
And you become mother.

In each and every beat of your pulse
I feel the throb of my heart
And the budding of my heart’s flower,
Whose fragrance intoxicates both of us
And is the love of us both.

… Blessed art thou, Mary,
You, who give me your ribs with endless love
And strain your bones for another bone,
You who become the cleanest furrow
Among fertile furrows,
And the most magnificent pot
Of all lily pots,
May you remain blessed, forever.

You, who discreet– as a pure pearl in a shell –
Bear the Godlike Man deep in your womb,
May you be blessed, Mary…

Daniel Varoujan
Translated by Tatul Sonentz

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