In search for the absolute
My soul once more stepped into a snare
Poor soul…
Once more you turned spineless-putty
A repulsive hoof of stone
That others lead by the nose
Towards hazy shores
No one ever stood up
In defense of you
Your nation or
Your land
The venom of rejection
Shall forever gnaw
At your guts
Soul
What did you expect to find
In a place like Toronto
Soul?
Which one of your woes
Had you forgotten under the snow
That you now rush over
To hug to caress it?
Soul? Soul…
Your stammering was cut short
Still thirsty for knowledge
Soul
Your love was left far behind
Pining for a warm bosom
Unfortunate soul
Now you are left naked disrobed
In this desolate exile
Even your feet cannot tell
Eden from hell
And the sun seems to be
A dim snowball in this
Alien wilderness
Soul…
Once more
You are a doomed slave
In the darkness of your cave
Your freedom decapitated
As a stillborn yearning
Soul…
You have lost your way
You are bewildered
You are uncontainable
But you are mine
You are mine
Mine…
My vivacious
My most libidinous
My emerald dreamer soul
Soul…
Poem by Seta Krikorian
Translated by Tatul Sonentz
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