WHEN my Armenia’s name I hear, my heart with violence throbs;
When all her sorrows I recall, tears flood my eyes like rain.
Was ever any country so luckless and forlorn?
With none to listen to her voice, she cries in bitter pain.
Rise, Vartan, Dikran, Aram, and your Mother once behold!
Let her laments awake you from the graves where ye abide!
And see, see how the house of Haig in exile wanders now!
‘Tis banished without pity, stricken sore on every side.
Ah, Haiasdan, my mother dear, how long, alas! How long
Shall your children sigh far from you? How long must you still roam?
How long before this motherless Armenian maid shall reach
Your sacred arms, and wet with tears your tender hands, at home?
If I could fly and lay my head upon my mother’s breast,
And quench with joyful tears the flame with which my heart is rife!
Let me be once caressed by her, and greet her with a kiss,
Then let the foeman’s whetted steel there sacrifice my life!
Come, brothers and fair sisters, join hands and let its work!
Our enemy is ignorance, look not for one elsewhere.
This foe has wrought us evil, from our mother made us part.
We’ll conquer it and drive it forth by study, love and care.
Brothers and sisters, oh, how long will you indifferent be?
How long must we let tares be sown amid our fields of grain?
Ah, must we waken when the foe destroys and scatters all
Unto the winds, till naught for a memorial shall remain?
Maid, let your hopeless heart be cleft, your smothered wail burst forth,
And let it ring on every side, beneath the heaven’s cope !
Yea, let it reach Armenia, and your mother, pitying, hear!
Perhaps she will console you, since in aliens is no hope.
Alas, I am afraid this pain will bring me to the grave,
And none will echo more my voice when I “Armenia!” cry.
On every side is silence; you would think that here death reigned,
And that, ‘mid death and ruins, a lonely owl was I.
Ah, Haiasdan, to you I give my heart and soul! Accept!
Let me die, and my Armenia arise, if this may be!
Am I imprisoned for her sake, a palace is the jail;
And if my hands and feet are chained, that too is joy to me.
If exiled, forced by want to roam, for my Armenia’s sake,
To me shall be a paradise each place beneath the sky.
Let me but reach
(Murgurditch Portoukalian)
More Poetry from Murgurditch Portoukalian:
Murgurditch Portoukalian Poems based on Topics: Love, Heaven, Cry, Soul, Education, Enemy, Brothers, Home, Countries, Hope, IgnoranceReaders Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Love Poems, Life Poems, Soul Poems, Heaven Poems, Cry Poems, Hope Poems, Home Poems, Pain Poems, Mothers Poems, Education Poems, Work & Career PoemsBased on Keywords: haig, aram, vartan, dikran