I am cricket,
Always singing
Astride a nimble reed…
A drop of hope
Deep inside me
Turns to stream and
Songs flow from my lips…
A shoot of flower,
Grain of a dream,
A lip of a cough
Turn to a feast in my soul…
I am cricket,
Always singing
Through the night…
When all things are asleep.
––––– ARIS SHAKLIAN, 1930
Translated by Tatul Sonentz
Je suis le cricket…
Moushegh Ishkhan wrote about the poet-teacher Aris Shaklian: “It’s true. My spelling didn’t improve, my analytic knowledge didn’t advance, but from him I received the Holy Communion of fine literary arts….Now Baron Shaklian was unveiling the miraculous world of poetry before my dazzled eyes.”
Well done, unger Tatul.