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ã×ã³Ý... |
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..
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FESTIN
Les torches, là-bas, indistinctes
Clignent de l’œil et vacillent
Dans le piège nocturne
Et suffocant des sortilèges.
Là-bas, des femmes splendides
Et bien en chair comme des mannequins
Vendent de la fausse folie
Comme quincaillerie dorée.
Et froids comme des cadavres,
Des hommes pâles et fatigués
S’inondent d’une joyeuse
Et flamboyante folie.
Passe solitaire. - Dans la pénombre,
Avec des clins d’œil passionnants,
Avec des charmes indicibles
Elles t’envoûteront.
Assieds-toi là-bas. Laisse-les
Dans leurs salles sombres,
Allumer un feu ardent,
Trouble et sans charme.
Bien que leurs vieilles chansons,
Bien que leurs fades sourires,
Restent étrangers
A ton âme brûlée de désirs,
Convaincs-toi que tu rêvais
Depuis longtemps, de tout ton cœur,
A ce charme de l’amour vénal,
A ce festin tardif.
Et tout deviendra mensonge,
Et ton âme comme du vin
Se répandra sur leur plancher
Impur et morbide.
Et jusqu’au matin
Tu resteras là,
Dans leur festin suffocant,
Insensé et absurde.
Tu te soumettras jusqu’à l’aube,
Comme un veule captif
A leur festin prolongé,
Maussade et vampire.
Que jamais, même pour un instant,
Le tourbillon affolé ne s’arrête.
Enivre-toi de leur amour perfide,
Pour que tes lèvres ne hurlent pas!
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The Armenian poet Yeghishé Charents was born
in Kars, a provincial Armenian city under the rule of
Imperial Russia. At seventeen, already author of published
poems, he joined an Armenian volunteer army to fight
against the Turks for the liberation of his people.
He witnessed the 
calamities
of World War I, and the extermination of his countrymen
in 1915 by the Ottoman Government. The outcome of his
bitter impressions was the poem, “Dante-esque
Legend” which made him famous at nineteen...
