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The Literary Groong - 10/25/2003

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	By Vahan Tekeyan
	Dhour Shoueir(Lebanon), August 1937

	Translated by Khatchig Mouradian

	Your pain unfolds from the past, oh light-shaded
	pine tree...Barely risen from the ground
	you have lost your maiden branch, the trace of which
	Appears on you dry and sprout as a broken arm.

	Then countless other branches succeeded it,
	And once they thought your trunk had grown enough
	Allowed your upper knots to sprout and thicken,
	and silently adorn themselves with transparent hair.

	And upon them abound new traces of sawing,
	All your still-born granddaughters and grandsons,
	Whose fervent sepulchers you have become.

	But you do not inspire at all, oh green tree of the mountains
	-With memories of so many victims- any notion of sorrow,
	You breed new life constantly and sway in joyous mood.

Khatchig Mouradian has a B.S. in Biology and currently is a graduate
student in Clinical Psychology. He has been writing poetry from an
early age and around two dozens of his poems (in Armenian) have been
published in a Armenian newspapers and magazines (Aztag, Zartonk, and
Ardziv). He is also a journalist with his columns and articles
appearing regularly in "Aztag" daily and "Marzig" monthly.

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