Krikor Ficici - FOR A SPOONFUL OF ICE CREAM

My father pounded iron all day long
for one kilogram of bread
my father bent iron twelve hours a day
for half a kilogram of meat
sparks flew from the iron
on the steel anvil
the iron sweated and shed blood
the iron screamed between hammer and anvil...
My father craved for a drop of water...
You
do you know what iron is all about?
These days instead of iron
they use plastics
iron is hard
your fingers hurt and bleed
yet I have pounded with pencil-pushing fingers
I know
how the dark sweat ran down my brow
for a spoonful of ice cream....


Krikor Ficici
translated by Tatul Sonentz

Krikor Ficici - WITHOUT KNOWING

With sleepless pupils
outside the window
the first day of 1992
alone in my room
I watch the snow-covered gardens...
In my hangover
from last night’s inhibriation
between the noises of radio
and television
I read Births
by Saroyan...
After birth
man animal
articulate or dumb --
the status depends
on the possibilities of environment...
The first day of 1992
seasonably cold
babies are born
regardless of the freeze
they are born every minute
thousands of babies
all around the four corners of the earth
without knowing
that once born
they no longer are free....


Krikor Ficici
translated by Tatul Sonentz

Krikor Ficici - WITHOUT THE SEA

Without the Sea

Like golden suns
the garden sunflowers soar
in the stormy firmament
entranced my eyes
trail their motions...
In my smile-filled days of childhood
from my modest room
I watched the sea
blue-green
painted with colors of tinted china...
The enticing sea
aroused as a girl of fifteen
every day bared itself to me...

Breathless waves
shimmering with millions of sparks
drunken in the evening hours
dozed off in pagan songs...
In those days
indolent life
was free as can be...

While today
I watch the sunflowers in my room
without the sea….


Krikor Ficici
translated by Tatul Sonentz

Krikor Ficici - SUN DOWN

The sun
nibbles on the thighs of the island extending
into the horizon
the blue-green salty water
strokes the chest of the land
lazy obese seagulls naked on the wet rocks
hold a meeting
and I
stealing a picture from nature
guzzle Canadian whisky….

Krikor Ficici
1979, Digby, Nova Scotia
Translated by Tatul Sonentz

Krikor Ficici - SHOES SHOES

White shoe black shoe
brown shoe
old-new shoe
summer winter shoe
shoes shoes
everywhere shoes
no place to put them…
Remember when
you had only one pair of shoes
with holes in the soles?

Krikor Ficici
translated by Tatul Sonentz

Krikor Ficici - LAST WISH

If this were the last sheet of paper
to write on
only your last thoughts
what would you do?
Would you create something new?
Or continue repeating those
you’ve written over
the years?
Love love
butter bread
cheese bread
life life
live live…
Or would you sing
of other feelings:
Of going to Venus
of conquering other planets
of traveling to indefinite
destinations…?
If this were the last sheet of paper
what things would you
be saying?
One more sheet please
one more sheet….

Krikor Ficici - 1980
translated by Tatul Sonentz

Krikor Ficici : Return

It seems in all of us there is a bit of heroism
that dies as time goes by
in all of us lives a rebel spirit
that mellows as centuries go by
there is a speck of the ruler in our cells
that wants to grasp the globe in its palm
every morning we want to conquer a new planet
every evening we desire to elude this world
we run we fly
with trust in the strength of the last cells of our muscles
we run farther farther
then return to dust....


Poem by Krikor Ficici
translated by Tatul Sonentz

Krikor Ficici : Inside the Fence

Each noon break
as I pass by this school
kids are running in the yard
in the golden red rays of the sun
fair haired youngsters
cheerful joyous happy
heedless of life’s traps tempests
they shout they laugh
as if defying
the world’s calamities...
A white ball with black stars
rolls out of the yard
I kick the ball
a merry smile a sunny smile
a smile full of happiness
a smile a smile an infinite smile
extending
“thank you…!”
an inexpressible joy
a bliss meandering swift as lightning
from fingertips to brain
as if my childhood rejoins me here
then runs for the yard
life is safer inside the fence.…


Poem by Krikor Ficici
translated by Tatul Sonentz