Levon Shant (1869-1951) was an Armenian poet, playwright, and novelist. This is my translation of “The Crescent Moon” from Armenian to English.
The Crescent Moon
From the dark sky at midnight,
it is the crescent’s odd eye
— thin, crooked, and unblinking —
that silently stares into my eyes.
And with a dry, mocking smile,
it’s as if it’s saying,
“Crumb of the universe! What are you doing there?
I know! A great deal! You are thinking!”
Misak Metsarents (1886-1908) was a Western Armenian neo-romantic poet. This is my translation of “Rejection” from Armenian to English. He wrote this one when he was 17 years old.
One kiss from you would have made me happy,
But you deprived me of that soft, beautiful gift.
You spat your merciless “No” at me indifferently,
And since that day, I’ve been suffering differently.
You deprived me of that soft, beautiful gift,
And you dipped in black the beam
Of my soft smile, sometimes burning, sometimes calm.
On that day, I became an unfortunate, miserable person.
You spat your merciless “No” at me indifferently.
That sharp-edged “No” made my heart bleed.
That cold bludgeon of rejection
Wrapped my soul in black.
Since that day, I’ve been suffering differently.
The suffering destroyed and ruined my heart.
Since that day when I drank from that cup of poison,
My heart has been bleeding without stop.
Misak Metsarents (1886-1908) was a Western Armenian neo-romantic poet. This is my translation of “Nameless” from Armenian to English.
Wild flower, what’s your name?
Tell me! Sitting in the shade of a fence
Made of briars and green leaves,
Wild flower, what’s your name?
White, milky, sappy
Fragrant flower, what’s your name?
Tell me! Don’t you quiver a little
When the sweet breeze blows?
Proud flower! What’s the name
Of the spirit who passed by you,
Leaving behind waves
Of humbleness and black amber?
Do you know, flower, the name
Of the shiver brought by the breeze,
And the name of the voice calling me?
Bored Absurdist 