What’s left of the sunlit days of holidays?
A cloudy sky gloomy as my dejected gaze,
And a pair of worn sandals from your feet.
What’s left of an ever-green seeming days?
Grand ventures now a mere crumbling mess,
Broad avenues now narrowed to mere byways
And a horizon as barren as a wilderness
What’s left of those budding loves and trysts?
A meager memory that dissipates already,
Aging desires, melancholy as descending mists…
And my Anna, my own lyric melody.
Hagop Djelalian (d. 2021) Armenia (lives in Greece)
Translated by Tatul Sonentz
Source: Armenian Poetry Project
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