ÒºèܲÌàô
¶É˳ñÏ¿Ý
²Õ³õÝÇÝ»ñ
¹áõñë ÏÁ ѳݿ,
áñ ûõ Ϫ³éÝ»Ý,
ÏÁ ÃéãÇÝ,
ܳå³ëï³ÏÝ»ñ
í»ñ ÏÁ ù³ß¿,
áñ ÏÁ í³½»Ý,
ÏÁ ÷³ËãÇÝ
ºõ ¹»é ÇÝ㻯ñ..
ÆÝã áñ Ϫ³ÝóÝÇ
Ó»ñ Ùïù¿Ý
²Ý ·É˳ñÏ¿Ý
ÏÁ ѳݿ,
ê³Ï³ÛÝ Çñ»Ý
ÏÁ å³Ñ¿
ºõ áã Ù¿ÏáõÝ
µ³Ý ãÇ ï³ñ...
ØdzÛÝ ÇÝã
áñ Ù»ñ Ùïù¿Ý...
ÆÝã áñ Ϫ³ÝóÝÇ
Ù»ñ ëñï¿Ý
â’»ÉÉ»ñ ³Ýáñ
·É˳ñÏ¿Ý...
ä³Ñ ÙÁ Û³ÝϳñÍ
ÏÁ Ûáõë³¹ñ¿,
äÇïÇ Ñ³Ý¿
ÏÁ ϳñÍ»Ýù,
ºñµ ·áÛݽ·áÛÝ
ɳûñ, ùáõñç»ñ,
ijå³õ¿ÝÝ»ñ
áõ ųݻ³ÏÝ»ñ
ÏÁ ¹Ç½¿,
ê³Ï³ÛÝ Û»ïáÛ
Ø»ñ ³ãù»ñáõÝ
³ëïÕ³÷áßÇ
ÏÁ ÷ã¿...
- ä³ñá°Ý ϳ˳ñ¹
ػͳå³ïÇ°õ
Ó»éݳÍáõ,
Ðñ³ß³·á°ñÍ
³×å³ñ³ñ,
²ëïáõ³¯Í ÇÙ,
ÆÝã ³ÝáõÝ
áñ Ï’áõ½»ë‘
³Ýù,
ÆÝãù³Ý ³ñÇõÝ
Ï’áõ½»ë‘
ɳÝù,
ØdzÛÝ Ñ³Ý¿°
³ÛÝ áñ Ëáóáõ³Í
Ù»ñ Ñá·ÇÇÝ
ͳÕÇÏÝ ¿,
ØÇ° ï³ñ Ù»½Ç,
Ù»ñ Ñá·Á ã¿,
ÙdzÛÝ ï»ëÝ»Ýù‘
Á µ³õ¿... |
MAGICIAN
From his hat,
He pulls out doves that take wing and fly,
Rabbits that escape and flee,
And so many other things...
Whatever comes into your head,
He draws out from his hat,
But he keeps it for himself,
Gives nothing to anyone.
But whatever comes into our head...
Whatever our hearts desire
Does not emerge from his hat...
For a moment he gives us hope,
We think he’ll pull it out,
Yet, he only piles up colorful cloths,
Rags, ribbons and lace,
And then,
He blows silver dust into our eyes...
Mister sorcerer,
Very honorable magician,
Miraculous illusionist,
Oh God,
We will call you what you wish
We will weep all the blood you want,
Only pull out the flower of our wounded heart,
Don’t give it to us, never mind, just show it to us,
that’s
enough... |
Several years ago, the Tekeyan Cultural Association
had a celebration in New York City, honoring the
75th anniversary of the Armenian writer and poet
Khachik Dashtents. I took part in the evening,
interpreting two songs that I wrote using the
lyrics of his poems. The text of one of 
these
songs, Armenian, which I adapted into the form
of an anthem, is included in all handbooks of
Armenian literature published in the Diaspora.
The audience greeted the song with great enthusiasm.
I believe there were two reasons for this. In
the first place, its message exhorts students
to speak Armenian in the countries where it is
threatened with disappearance; and in the second
place, I sang it with a little choir of young
girls who presumably have gotten the message...
