Poems of Yeghishe Charent

TO ELEGANT MISS L

 
Your soul – so delicate, starched,
Your heart – a spoiled little bitch.
While my soul is, you know,
Used to sleeping in the streets.
Your soul – so delicate, starched.
Pardon me, but do you think
That it could sit on its paws
And howl from longing til dawn?
Could your soul in the streets -
Where one is not even allowed to fight -
With the first dog it meets
Unite, that is mate?
Oh, pardon me, Miss; but although
I am a poet, as you know,
I cannot restrain my feelings
With good manners, as you do.
And without being shy, tomorrow,
As soon as spring starts blooming,
I will let my wandering soul
Unite, that is mate with all.
Although I know that later
When sated it will start to sing,
On the gums of my soul
Blue sores will appear.
However, again on the sidewalks,
Looking for crumbs of bread,
I'll squander my generous soul
And give it to the stray dogs.
Whores will become my sisters,
Dogs – my beloved brothers,
But what a pity you'll remain stranger to me
With your spotless, your starched soul.
 

1921

THE FEAST

 
The torches hesitantly
Wink and signal
In the nocturnal yet viscous
Ambushes of enchantment.
There, stylish and corpulent
Women, like mannequins,
Display the tinny jewels
Of false madness.
Men tired and pale,
And cold like corpses
Are filled with joyful
And fervent madness.
Pass through alone! In the half darkness
With their passionate gestures,
Unspeakable enchantments
They will enchant you.
Sit down there. Let them,
In their dark halls,
Burn a red fire,
Charmless and dim.
May their old songs
And their fragile smiles
Remain estranged
From your longing soul.
Pretend that long ago
You eagerly dreamed of
This belated feast and love,
This enchantment – for sale.
And all will turn into lies,
And your soul like wine
Will inundate their black
And morbid floor.
You will be there
Until morning with them,
In their suffocating feast,
Meaningless and absurd.
Now surrender until dawn
Like a frail captive
To their belated feast,
Joyless and slaughterous.
May the wild whirlwind
Never stop even for a blink,
Get drunk from their gruesome love
Lest your lips part in a scream..
 

SEMIRAMIS

 
With unquenchable craving for passion and embrace
You have returned to visit the cities of Nairi.
Your unattractive and green corpse's eyes
Are flaming again with insatiable desire.
You are passing through and seeing those cities
Where there were just weeds at the time of Ara.
The world has changed. And Nairi has changed also.
Now every king would give himself to your flame.
There is no need for quarrels, no need for deadly battles-
For the new kings just a smile will suffice.
Just a small hint – and they will give themselves to you,
To your bewitching, lascivious and feverish love.
They will come one by one – and you will torture them
With the sharp arrows of your greedy love and allure.
And they will make love to you with such passion
That your soul consumed with desire will heal at last.
…But there will be a night, – when, full of Nairian charm,
Your Ara will rise from the mist with his boyish smile.
Your desolate soul will burn with desire again,
And you will declare war with bewildered dismay.
Lest to succumb to her morbid flame –
The ancient Nairi will rise with him to fight.
And in the fields of Nairi again he will fall,
The troops will retreat, and the land will be yours.
He will die as a martyr – but you will not defeat him.
Bitter is the mystery of love, you, voluptuous Semiramis.
 

1920

MARIONETTE

 
Slowly, slowly, slowly, slow,
Feet on the ground, the ground, the ground,
It came and went, it came and went,
Pale and yellow, pale and yellow.
Moving the hand – first up, then down,
Stamping its feet – a corpse, a corpse!
Coming forward, painfully, slow,
The hand falls down then up it goes.
Here, here, look, it’s bending down,
Will fall, will fall, but no, no, wait,
One lip parts from lip below,
Stops for a moment – staring at death.
Then sharply screams, as if by force,
Motionless eyes staring afar,
This is the way my soul will die
Slowly, slowly, slowly, slowly…
 

1920