GODDESS
ANAHIT!
We may meet, Goddess Anahit! You
gave me your name and your ancient myth. There's a bench where I can sit.
There's a branch where a bird can sing. I wonder if you gave me your perfume
made from mint. Do the stars stretch their knees not to slip? You didn't smoke
but I do, Goddess Anahit! However the ashes are the same in time's messages.
Who knows whose beauty shone in the ancient fortresses? You are still a statue
in time's voyages. Who am I in my old and new bandages? We have the same name
in time's images. Do the stars meet their myth Goddesses?
HAPPY
BIRTDAY TO YOU!
Happy birthday to you, every
newborn day! Wait for a butterfly! It has something to say. I know your minutes
will be in their haste. Happy birthday to you, every golden ray! Will a locked
door let you in to stay? You know which key may be made of clay. What is this
silver key forged in my brain? Hello, emerald bud! Happy birthday! Wait for a
butterfly born to breathe during one day! See you soon, tender snowflake! You
will let a snowdrop take your white face. There is something which lays
nothingness on a puzzled glance. What makes these waves dance on their sapphire
lake? The air wings draw their own way. Hello, air wings! You were born to
play! Hello, my silver key! Have you shone like a golden ray? Happy birthday to
you, every newborn day! Do wait for me! I have something to say.
WHAT CAN
MELT OR STAY
Don't interrupt our dance to see
what can melt or what can stay! A melted minute embraces a shade through the
cosmic glance. Don't interrupt our dance as I will be a swan one day! I will be
wandering and calling a ray. The sky's fallen piece might have formed a lake. I
am still a lady being both fool and sage. Being a swan I will dance my ballet
on a light blue stage. Its waves may echo the sounds of this earthly race. I
guess I will be a swan one day. Aren't you laughing at this nonsense? You will
fall in love with my white lace. The sky dropped its pieces to create seas and
lakes. These oceans may be the sky's endless tales. Ask a swan if it learned to
live without a lady's tempting face! I am still a lady on my life's way. All
these melted minutes are screaming to say what can melt or what can stay.
A POET
AND A POEM
How long would a poem flit
across a poet's lips? Tongues! You are never tired of climbing up the hills.
Hearts! Are you really flirting in a drip of ink? Times! Your carriages are
never tired of running to blink. Would a poet find a blanket made of silk?
Bitter beer wouldn't be as sweet as milk. Poet! Who knows what you drink. I
might sleep not to rise in one morning's mint .Could I be a poem recited by a
rustling leaf? Who knows how poems stretch a poet's skin. What does a poem
drink to climb up the hills? A poet is a poem but who knows this.
PLAY YOUR
PIPE!
Hey, shepherd! Play your pipe!
The sun has woken up. It can comb your hair with its passionate eyes. Do play
your pipe to the plants with emerald tongues! Who can count the drops which the
soil has drunk? Shepherd! You don't need a white shirt and a tie. This
barefooted river is as blue as the sky. It may also steal the sky's silver
shine. Hey, shepherd! Play your pipe! The grass may hear and smile. The grass
doesn't need a painted mask. Its green sunglasses can look at the sun. Hey,
shepherd! Play your pipe! The day hasn't changed for the night. You can find a
lost drop in a green-eyed bud. No river needs any boots to run. Play the tune
which the curly clouds might have sung! They remind you of the goats making
fun.
[ANAHIT
ARUSTAMYAN]
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