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memories of my ghost sista

~ the dead are never satisfied

memories of my ghost sista

Category Archives: Poetry

eurydice’s view from a modish pavilion

13 Saturday Apr 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Armenia, Poetry, Translation

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Eurydice, gif, Greek myth, poem, translation

tumblr_mh5wzy1MsK1qk4oheo1_500

Էւրէդըսիի հայացքը նորաձեւ փավիլեոնից

Նախ դու նրան տեսնում ես որպես
Մետաքս’ փաթթված հիւսված դարպասին:

Նրա փավիլեոնը
կագնած դաշտի մեջ, փոքր մի կղզի

ցուցաբերելով եւ ոչ մի փասիոն: Հետո
նա բարցրանում է, ծածկված գիշերանոցով ու ցեխով

— շաղատար կոշիկներ, գիշերամաշ գծեր
դեմքի վրա, իր երկար ու պայծառ լուսապսակը

լուսավորելով
իւր փավիլեոնի շլացուցիչ խնջոյքը:

Ասելով «ծծիր
արշալոյսի լոյսը իմ

ճակատի –» Ասելով
«Հետապնդիր տերողորմեաները

նվիրվածութեան –» Ասելով «այլապես’
ես քեզ կը լսամ մի այլ տեղ –»

[Translations by Tatoul Badalian]

.

Eurydice’s View from a Modish Pavilion

First you will see her as
silk tied to a woven gateway.

Her pavilion
stands in the field, islet

experiencing no passion. Then
she rises, clad in nightgown and mud

-spattered boots, night-worn lines on
her face, her long bright halo

illuminating the
pavilion’s dazzling banquet.

Saying: “suck early
morning light from my

forehead—” Saying:
“Follow these atonements

of devotion—” Saying: “Otherwise
I will hear you elsewhere—”

i search for your skull

13 Saturday Apr 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Armenia, Poetry, Translation

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Armenian Genocide, Der Zor, ghost girl, I search for your skull, poem, translation

the Syrian desert called Der ez Zor, site of the Armenian genocide

the Syrian desert called Der ez Zor, site of the Armenian genocide

* * *

Կորած ուրվական.
Ես որոնում եմ ձեր գանգի:
Տէր Զօր.

* * *

Lost ghost.
I search for your skull.
Der ez Zor.

havoc

11 Thursday Apr 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Armenia, Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on havoc

Tags

Armenian, burning dragonflies, kisses, translation

Երբ մենք համբուրել, քայքայում ավերում.
Այրում վիշապաճանճում, իմ բերանին.

When we kiss, havoc.
A dragonfly burning in my mouth.

prayer to astghik

10 Wednesday Apr 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Armenia, Poetry, Translation

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Armenia, Astghik, love goddess, poem, prayer, translation

Astghik

Աստվածուհին սիրո եւ վերջին սերը.
Աստղիկ, ես մենակ եմ.
Ուղարկիր ինձ իմ ցանկություն.
Բեր ինձ ցանկամոլություն.
Սապփո, որ Աֆրոդիտեի դուստրը.
Ես ուզում եմ ձեզ հիմա, իմ մուգ մայրը.

.
Goddess of love and last love.
Astghik, I‘m alone.
Send me my wish.
Bring me my desire.
Sappho was Aphrodite’s daughter.
I need you now, my dark mother.

.
note:

Astghik, besides being a popular Armenian girl’s name, is one of the old gods that lived in the Caucasus mountains before Armenia became the first Christian nation in the world. She was, and is, a love goddess, the protector of young girls and the guardian of fresh water. The Greek poet Sappho wrote a hymn to Aphrodite. This is my hymn for Astghik.

And once again I must apologize for my poor skills in Armenian. I am slowly learning the grammar, but it is a slow process when you are teaching yourself. One day I hope to be able to write the poems I dream about writing in Armenian, but until then I will keep on trying.

տաք ջուր է ցնցուղ

09 Tuesday Apr 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Armenian, Erotic, Poetry, Translation

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Tags

Armenian translation, hot water shower, տաք ջուր է ցնցուղ, Poetry, sin

Տաք ջուր է ցնցուղ,

դուք լվանում հեռավորության վրա, թե ինչ ենք արել.

Կամ գոնե փորձում եք.
.

Hot water in the shower,

you wash away everything we just did.

Or at least you try.

Quote

ձեր երազանքների

09 Tuesday Apr 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Armenian, Poetry, Translation

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Tags

Armenian translation, ձեր երազանքների, Poetry, your dreams

Ես հասկանում եմ ձեր երազանքների.
Ոչինչ մի անհանգստացեք.
Ձեր գաղտնի ապահով.

.
I understand your dreams.
Do not worry.
Your secret is safe.

Whitman. Sappho. Neruda.

09 Tuesday Apr 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Armenia, Erotic, Poetry, Translation

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Armenian, Pablo Neruda, poem, Sappho, translation, Walt Whitman

 

Ուիթմեն. Սապփո. Ներուդա.
Տաղ. Հնչեակ. Վիպերգ.
Ես գրում եմ իմ բանաստեղծությունները վրա ձեր ծլիկ.

Whitman. Sappho. Neruda.
Ode. Sonnet. Ballad.
I write my poems on your clit.

* * *

Notes:

As far as I know these are the correct spellings in Armenian of these poets’ names. Պաբլո Ներուդա (Pablo Neruda), Ուոլթ Ուիթմեն (Walt Whitman) and Սապփո (Sappho).

Writing, as they say, is a gamble. We put our art out for the world to see, and then hope the reader enjoys it enough to write back. Some people find their audience right away and some never do. I have no idea where the audience for this poem is, but I am willing to take the chance that once I send it out into the void that is the Internet it will, slowly, find its way to the one who it’s intended for. And who knows? That person might even help me with my grammar, since my ability to write in Armenian is շատ վատ (very bad). Cheers!

Quote

i want to sing only for you

08 Monday Apr 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Armenian, Poetry, Translation

≈ Comments Off on i want to sing only for you

Tags

Armenian translation, looking for a tutior, երգում, Poetry, relearning

Someday I will find a friend to help me re-learn all the Armenian I knew while in Peace Corps. Now I feel frustrated, I’ve forgotten so much. But I know one day I’ll sing again, sing beautifully.

Ես մուրացկան.
Ես ուզում եմ այցելել ձեզ.
Բայց ես չեմ կարող երգել.
Խնդրում ենք սովորեցնել ինձ երգել.
Ես ուզում եմ երգել է միայն ձեզ համար.

.

I am a beggar.
I want to see you.
But I can not sing.
Please teach me to sing.
I want to sing only for you.

Quote

ձեր երանության

08 Monday Apr 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Armenian, Erotic, Poetry, Translation

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Tags

Armenian translation, cunnilingus, Poetry, your bliss

Իմ լեզուն ներսում ձեր շուրթերը.
Ես խմել ձեր երանության.
Ձեր ձեռքը իմ գլխին.

.
My tongue inside your lips.
I drink your bliss.
Your hand on my head.

the road to enlightenment has many paths

08 Monday Apr 2013

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on the road to enlightenment has many paths

Tags

enlightenment, masturbation, orgasm, prayer, sonnet

 

“… loveroot, silk thread, crotch and vine.”
— Walt Whitman

I’m not interested in who suffered more,
just those who mastered pain’s blood alphabet.
Trust joy. If what you long for is a door
that will lead you to love do not forget
that the door is here. What other purpose
could the orgasm have but to let me
talk to gods? At the moment of climax
when I leave behind ego and body
I call that act enlightenment – no hate,
attachment or pain – only bliss. Only
pilgrims working hard at their nightly prayers,
at blood’s loveroot. Don’t trust those who dictate
the path to wisdom. They are not holy
like you and all of your sticky fingers.

 

 

 

 

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