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The Literary Groong - 06/14/2008

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	By Michael E. Stone 

	Over Yerevan Mount Ararat
	looms at dusk tenebrous,
	moon shines above its very peak, 
	just like in tourist paintings.
	Then mountain fades into sky,
	and darkness is complete.


	By Michael E. Stone

	Here we go round the mulberry bush
	So quoth T.S. Eliot,
	But it's a tree, not a bush,
	Grand, spreading, broad-leafed.

	At the bottom of the garden
	The neighbours' branch grew over
	Could be climbed from our side
	and we did.

	Near broad silk-worm leaves,
	and thick trunk branches
	small purple berries stained us
	black as the mountains.*

[*] Karabakh means "black mountains", so called after the mulberry
trees planted there under Persian domination for the production of

Michael Stone is Professor of Armenian Studies at the Hebrew
University of Jerusalem. He has published poetry in Ararat, Avocet,
Byline Magazine, Hazmat Review, King Log, Mandrake Poetry Review,
Ruah, White Heron, ARC, and Voices Anthology. He also translates
medieval Armenian poetry into English and has published translations
in Ararat, Sion and St. Nersess Theological Review. He is at present
finalizing an English translation of the medieval biblical epic
Adamgirk' by Arak'el of Siwnik'. In addition to poetry he has
published numerous scholarly books and articles on Armenian studies.

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