Hagop Norashkharian


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Why have you now given way
To so much flaws, unpleasant,
When you had the grace to be
So flawless, you, blessed one...?
Why were you not such that I
Could without doubt throw myself
Into your lap and take rest,
To not mourn day after day
For my fate so colorless,
When the torture is certain,
The sorrow full of poison...


Why have I stayed so little
And always not risen up,
Immersed in the pettiness,
I've ignored the important,
To the daily vain problems
I've paid tribute and cajoled,
Of make-up, fake ornament,
I have been the adorer,
I, the bourgeois, wretched, vile,
I, faithless skin worshipper...!

Forgive me, my beloved,
If I were not tolerant;
I have just looked at your wounds
like a boy who was so spoiled,
Like a man who did not have
Any bonds of blood with you...
Forgive me...but why did you
not become so big yourself,
So that even with crossed eyes
I'd be able to see you...?

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