Lamartine and his poem «Le Lac”

After having exhaustively presented Felix Arvers' famous love of a married woman whose identity remained a mystery and puzzled poets and fired their imagination for decades to come, Armenag Yeghiayan presented  to his readers another famous French poet's - Alfonse de Lamartine, «Le Lac» poem and in a footnote drew a comparison between Felix Arvers' lightening love and to Apegha, a hero of Levon Shant's «Ancient Gods» (Հին Աստոաւծներ), who rescued Seda from the stormy weather of Lake Sevan and carried her to the island and from that moment on fell madly in love with her.  Attached is my translation of the introduction. Բնագիրը կցուած է։

 

A contemporary of Felix Arvers and in many ways similarly fated, we also have another French romantic poet, Alphonse de Lamartine and his poem "The Lake" (Le Lac), his literary masterpiece.

Time has taken away a lot from Lamartine's former glory, but his poem «Le Luc», which is a testimony of an unhappy love, remained unscathed.

Lamartine was born in 1790 in the province of Bourgogne, which is adjacent to Paris and extends towards the Mediteranean, in the Milly community there, where his ancesteral home remains preserved to this day. It is there that Lamartine spent the first decades of his well-to-do and peaceful life.                                                                      

In 1816 he visited the town Aix-les-Bains in in south-west of France, known for its rich mineral water and where Frances largest lake, Lac du Bourget, is located. Lamartine would visit it eight times, the last time in 1830. During his first visit he met a married woman six years older than him  who had also come there to recuperate in its mineral water and was staying in the same inn, in an adjacent room to his. Her name was Julie Charles

It so happened that one stormy day Lamartine rescused Julie from drowning in the lake Lac du Bourget, because the boat she was on had capsized. In his memory-book recorded the following: «The other day I rescued a young woman from sure drowning. Today she fills my days.» :

The affection was mutual.

From there one, throughout their stay at the lake, they remained unseperable and their relationship continued in Paris. 

The following year, as agreed, Lamartine returned to Aix-les-Bains,  where he stayed from August 21 to September 17. But throughout his stay, Julie being sick,  could not join him.  During this peiod Lamartine wrote his  «Le Lac» poem, where he referred to the heroine by the name Elvire, who passed away after two months on December 18, 1817 at the age of 33. After her death she remained Lamartine's inspiration throughout his life.

--«Lamartine became Lamartine only after knowing Julie», wrote one of Lamartine's biographer academician ՝ René Doumic , (a member of the French Academy).

Subsequently Lamartine married an English woman named Elisa. They had a daugher they name Julie who passed away at young age. Along with being a writer, Lamartine tumultous political life.  

He pased away in 1869.

In 1820 he published his first book titled՝ «Méditations poétiques» - «Poetic Meditations» that is regarded the cornerstone of French romantic poetry and is considered the crowning achievement of Lamartine's literary works and among them the poem «Le Lac» remains its jewel. 

***

Lac du Bourget, also locally known as Lac Gris or Lac d'Aix, is a lake at the southernmost end of the Jura Mountains in the department of Savoie, France. It is the deepest lake located entirely within France, and either the largest or second largest after Lac de Grand-Lieu depending on season

Ainsi, toujours poussés vers de nouveaux rivages, Dans la nuit éternelle emportés sans retour, Ne pourrons-nous jamais sur l'océan des âges Jeter l'ancre un seul jour ? Ô lac ! l'année à peine a fini sa carrière, Et près des flots chéris qu'elle devait revoir, Regarde ! je viens seul m'asseoir sur cette pierre Où tu la vis s'asseoir ! Tu mugissais ainsi sous ces roches profondes ; Ainsi tu te brisais sur leurs flancs déchirés ; Ainsi le vent jetait l'écume de tes ondes Sur ses pieds adorés. Un soir, t'en souvient-il ? nous voguions en silence ; On n'entendait au loin, sur l'onde et sous les cieux, Que le bruit des rameurs qui frappaient en cadence Tes flots harmonieux. Tout à coup des accents inconnus à la terre Du rivage charmé frappèrent les échos, Le flot fut attentif, et la voix qui m'est chère Laissa tomber ces mots : « Ô temps, suspends ton vol ! et vous, heures propices, Suspendez votre cours ! Laissez-nous savourer les rapides délices Des plus beaux de nos jours ! « Assez de malheureux ici-bas vous implorent ; Coulez, coulez pour eux ; Prenez avec leurs jours les soins qui les dévorent ; Oubliez les heureux. « Mais je demande en vain quelques moments encore, Le temps m'échappe et fuit ; Je dis à cette nuit : «Sois plus lente» ; et l'aurore Va dissiper la nuit. « Aimons donc, aimons donc ! de l'heure fugitive, Hâtons-nous, jouissons ! L'homme n'a point de port, le temps n'a point de rive ; Il coule, et nous passons !». «Temps jaloux, se peut-il que ces moments d'ivresse, Où l'amour à longs flots nous verse le bonheur, S'envolent loin de nous de la même vitesse Que les jours de malheur ? «Hé quoi ! n'en pourrons-nous fixer au moins la trace ? Quoi ! passés pour jamais ? quoi ! tout entiers perdus ? Ce temps qui les donna, ce temps qui les efface, Ne nous les rendra plus ? «Éternité, néant, passé, sombres abîmes, Que faites-vous des jours que vous engloutissez ? Parlez : nous rendrez-vous ces extases sublimes Que vous nous ravissez ? «Ô lac ! rochers muets ! grottes ! forêt obscure ! Vous que le temps épargne ou qu'il peut rajeunir, Gardez de cette nuit, gardez, belle nature, Au moins le souvenir ! «Qu'il soit dans ton repos, qu'il soit dans tes orages, Beau lac, et dans l'aspect de tes riants coteaux, Et dans ces noirs sapins, et dans ces rocs sauvages Qui pendent sur tes eaux ! «Qu'il soit dans le zéphyr qui frémit et qui passe, Dans les bruits de tes bords par tes bords répétés, Dans l'astre au front d'argent qui blanchit ta surface De ses molles clartés ! «Que le vent qui gémit, le roseau qui soupire, Que les parfums légers de ton air embaumé, Que tout ce qu'on entend, l'on voit et l'on respire, Tout dise :  “Ils ont aimé !’’».  ==================                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   ***In another poem from the same collection, he wrote: «centuries will pass over your remains Anvers and you will live forever.» :

So driven onward to new shores forever, Into the night eternal swept away, Upon the sea of time can we not ever Drop anchor for one day? O Lake! Scarce has a single year coursed past. To waves that she was meant to see again, I come alone to sit upon this stone You saw her sit on then. You lowed just so below those plunging cliffs. Just so you broke about their riven flanks. Just so the wind flung your spray forth to wash Her feet which graced your banks. Recall the evening we sailed out in silence? On waves beneath the skies, afar and wide, Naught but the rowers’ rhythmic oars we heard Stroking your tuneful tide. Then of a sudden tones untold on earth, Made echoes ring from your enchanted shore. The tide attended; and I heard these words From the voice dear to me: O time, suspend thy flight ! and you, propitious  hours, Suspend your  pursue! Let us enjoy the transient delight That fills our fairest day. «Unhappy crowds cry out to you in prayers. Flow, Time, and set them free. Carry  off whit their days their worry and  sorrow! But forget the happy be. «In vain I pray the hours to linger on, And Time slips into flight. I tell this night: “Be slower!” and the dawn Undoes the raveled night. «Let’s love, then! Love, and feel while feel we can The moment on its run. Man does not have a port, time does not have a shore,  It flows, and we go on. «Covetous Time! Our mighty drunken moments When love pours forth huge floods of happiness; Can it be true that they depart no faster Than days of wretchedness? «Why can we not keep some trace at the least? Gone wholly? Lost forever in the black? Will Time that gave them, Time that now elides them Never once bring them back? «Eternity, naught, past, dark gulfs: what do You do with days of ours which you devour? Speak! Shall you bring back those sublime ecstasies? Return the raptured hour? «O Lake, caves, silent cliffs and darkling wood, Whom Time has spared or can restore to light, Beautiful Nature, let there live at least The memory of that night: «Let it be in your stills and in your storms, Fair Lake, in your cavorting sloping sides, In the black pine trees, in the savage rocks That hang above your tides; «Let it be in the breeze that stirs and passes, In sounds resounding shore to shore each night, In the star’s silver countenance that glances Your surface with soft light. «Let the deep keening winds, the sighing reeds, Let the light balm you blow through cliff and grove, Let all that is beheld or heard or breathed, All say: “They did love !”».   ===================                                          ***Mais les siècles auront passé sur ta   poussière, Elvire, et tu vivras toujours !

armenag@gmail.com

Արմենակ Եղիայեան

 

Բնագիրը՝

 

Առվերին ժամանակակից եւ զանազան առումներով անոր բախտակից՝ կը գտնենք ֆրանսացի  երկրորդ քնարերգակ բանաստեղծ մըն ալ,  որ Ալֆոնս դը Լամարթինն է իր «Լիճը» բանաստեղծութեամբ, որ կը հանդիսանայ  անոր գլուխ-գործոցը:

Ժամանակը շատ բան խլեց անոր երբեմնի փառքէն, որմէ անվթար մնաց այս մէկը, որ դժբախտ սիրոյ մը վկայութիւնն է:

                                                             *   *   *

Լամարթին ծնած է 1790-ին, Փարիզի կից դէպի Միջերկրականը տարածուող Bourgogne նահանգի Milly համայնքին մէջ, ուր մինչեւ հիմա կը պահպանուի անոր հօրենական տունը, ուր եւ անցուցած է ան բարեկեցիկ  կեանքի մը առաջին  խաղաղ տասնամեակները:                                                                           Լամարթին

1816-ին կը մեկնի Ֆրանսայի հարաւ-արեւելքը՝ հանքային ջուրերով հարուստ Aix-les-Bains քաղաքը, ուր եւ կը գտնուի Ֆրանսայի մեծագոյն լիճը՝ Lac de Bourget-ն: 

Լամարթին այստեղ պիտի  վերադառնար ութ անգամ. վերջինը՝   1830-ին:

Առաջին կեցութեան իսկ ան կը ծանօթանայ իր կարգին բուժում գտնելու  համար այնտեղ եկած եւ իրմէ վեց տարի մեծ ու ամուսնացեալ  կնոջ մը՝ Julie Charles-ին. անոնք իջեւանած էին նոյն պանդոկի երկու պատկից սենեակներուն մէջ:

Կը պատահի, որ Ժիւլի Պուրժէի լիճին մէջ   եւ փոթորիկի մը հետեւանքով ունենայ նաւաբեկում մը, եւ Լամարթին  զայն գրկած  փրկէ  ստոյգ խեղդամահութենէ, եւ քիչ անց գրէ իր յուշատետրին  մէջ. «Առջի օր փրկեցի մանկամարդ կին մը, որ կը խեղդուէր, այսօր ան կը լեցնէ օրերս» :

Համակրանքը փոխադարձ էր:

Այնուհետեւ Պուրժէ կեցութեան ամբողջ տեւողութեան անոնք անբաժան են՝ քիչ անց  Փարիզի մէջ շարունակելու համար իրենց տեսակցութիւնները: 

Յաջորդ տարի Լամարթին   ժամադրուած  կը վերադառնայ  Aix-les-Bains, ուր կը մնայ  21 օգոտստոսէն մինչեւ 17 սեպտեմբեր 1817, սակայն այս ամբողջ միջոցին Ժիւլի, շատ հիւանդ ըլլալուն, չի կրնար միանալ իրեն: Իր այս կեցութեան ընթացքին է, որ Լամարթին կը գրէ «Լիճը»՝  անուանափոխելով անոր հերոսուհին ու զայն կոչելով Elvire  ծածկանունով, որ կը մահանայ երկու ամիս ետք՝ 18 դեկտեմբեր 1817-ին, 33 տարեկանին,  յետ մահու դառնալով Լամարթինի  ողջ կեանքի գլխաւոր ներշնչարանը:

--«Լամարթինը Ժիւլին ճանչնալէ ետք միայն Լամարթին դարձաւ»,-- պիտի ըսէր իր կենսագիրներէն   ակադեմական մը՝ René Doumic :

Հետագային Լամարթին ամուսնացաւ Էլիզա անունով  անգլուհիի մը հետ, ունեցաւ վաղամեռիկ աղջիկ մը, որուն տուաւ Ժիւլիա անունը: Ան գրականին կողքին ունեցաւ քաղաքական շատ փոթորկալից կեանք մը եւս՝ վերիվայրումներով յատկանշուած: 

Մեռաւ 1869-ին:

1820-ին ան հրատարակեց իր առաջին գիրքը՝ «Méditations poétiques» “Բանաստեղծական խոկեր”, որ անկիւնադարձ մը պիտի հանդիսանար ֆրանսական քնարերգութեան մէջ. ան պիտի ըլլար նաեւ Լամարթինի հարուստ գրականութեան թագն ու պսակը, իսկ «Լիճը» պիտի կազմէր այդ թագը զարդարող գոհարը:

Diaspora Armenian Schools: wobbling pillars

 Vahe H. Apelian

On April 5, 2024, the Hamazkayin Eastern U.S.A. Region Executive held a zoom conference and presented the challenges of the schools the Hamazkayin Central Executive in Lebanon, administers in Lebanon, Marseille, Paris and Sydney. Other than the one in Lebanon, Melanton and Haig Arslanian Jemaran, the remaining three Hamazkayin affiliated schools receive funding from the state. Jemaran in Lebanon does not receive state funding not out of choice but because of the chaotic state in Lebanon and absence of a coherently functioning government. The Armenian school in the Diaspora receiving state assistance is a new trend. It presents a new challenge to the school’s Armenian administration but also opens new possibilities. In the U.S. that will be the Charter Schools. Gabriel Injejikian, the pioneer of the Armenian schools in the U.S. was a proponent for Charter Schools. The independent Armenian schools are wobbling because of increasing financial requirements that has burden the communities.  I was reminded of an article I wrote on 24 August 2013 and had it posted in Keghart.com, titled “The Wobbling Pillars.”

The Armenian Diaspora has experienced seismic tremors in the last few decades, mostly due to the unfolding of violent political events in the Middle East, the cradle of Armenian Diaspora, and due to the global economic recession. We have no control over these events. The best we can do is to adjust.

Pillars wobble, if not topple, because the ground on which they were entrenched ceases to be the solid support it was once. The analogy refers to our evolving perception of Armenian schools.

Two fundamental issues have always surfaced regarding an Armenian parents’ rightful concern in Armenian schools in North America or in the Middle East. The two concerns are the education their children would receive and the ease with which their children would be able to communicate in the society they live in. The latter being not only the mastery of the larger society’s language but also its conveyance, that is to say, accent. A few years ago, the late George Apelian, educator, author, pointed out to me that more affluent Armenian parents were sending their children to non-Armenian schools in Lebanon for this very reason.

Solid education and accent are valid concerns. Let's put them in perspective.

A few years ago I attended an annual conference which had to do with my specialization–pharmaceutics. It was attended by people from all over the world. To warm up his audience for a dry subject he was about to deliver, one of the lecturers asked: "What is the language of science?" He then answered it: "In the United States it's English spoken with an accent”. How true. In this interdependent world, it’s also Hindi, Mandarin or Arabic spoken with an accent as well. Those who have heard Vartan Gregorian have surely noted that he speaks with an accent. But that has not prevented him from reaching the uppermost echelon of society. No one really cares much about your accent as long as you offer what your interlocutor needs to forge a win-win relationship with you–be it personal or impersonal.

Capable teachers have transmitted solid education since antiquity in structurally much more modest environments and without the gadgetry modern schools enjoy. Computers are the outcome of such basic education and will never be able to replace it. Armenian schools historically have done well in imparting sold basic education to generations of students. I have yet to hear a friend or an acquaintance tell me, in hindsight, that he or she wished their parents had sent them to a non-Armenian school to better prepare them for life. On the contrary, the overwhelming majority of former students in Armenian schools I have met fondly remember their times there. There is a reason for it and it has to do with EQ– Emotional Quotient of the former students.

EQ is a measurement of a person's ability to monitor his or her emotions, to cope with pressures and demands, and to control his or her thoughts and actions. Most educators agree that EQ is as important as IQ (Intelligence Quotient).  There was a time whenwhat  students learned in a classroom stayed with them unchanged for a long time. Not anymore. Education is also learning to constantly learn new things. A student has to be emotionally well adjusted and prepared to surmount this ceaseless onslaught of newer things.  Along with imparting solid and basic education, Armenian schools have been very successful in preparing their students to score higher in their EQ. Most of the students I knew in my formative years, while attending Armenian schools in Lebanon, have done well. In fact, very well whether they attended college or not.

I do not want to paint a picture of an all-too-perfect Armenian school. I simply want to elaborate on the issues of accent and of basic education so that parents would have a broader perspective should they be considering to enroll their children in an Armenian school. Historically, Armenian schools have not failed us. On the contrary, they have successfully equipped their former students with basic knowledge and social anchor to venture out to make a living . After all, for us it has always been and will always be – "Ուր Հաց, Հոն կաց".

 

“We do not forget nor should we forget”

Vahe H Apelian

 

The title of my blog is a quote.  If a reader is interested to find out who said it and in what context, I ask the reader to continue on reading this blog.

Friday April 5, 2024 is an important day in the life of Armenia and hence naturally in the lives of the Armenians world-wide.   Today, local time, the following press releases were issued, I quote: “YEREVAN, APRIL 5, ARMENPRESS. Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan had a meeting with Samantha Power, Administrator of the US Agency for International Development, at the Embassy of the Republic of Armenia in Belgium.” 

The other is the press release from the PM Nikol Pashinyan’ office. I quote: “President of the European Commission, Ursula von der Leyen, EU High Representative/Vice-President, Josep Borrell, Secretary of State of the United States of America, Antony Blinken, USAID Administrator Samantha Power, and Prime Minister of the Republic of Armenia, Nikol Pashinyan, met today, April 5, 2024 in Brussels to reaffirm support for Armenia’s sovereignty, democracy, territorial integrity, and socio-economic resilience.”.

Armenia’s FM Ararat Mirzoyan has already announced that Armenia has no intention of applying for membership to NATO. Presently Nikol Pashinyan heads the Eurasian Economic Union, which is comprised of Armenia, Belarus, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and Russia. Armenia has not resigned from CSTO but it has frozen its participation. But it is not far-fetched to imagine that the opposition in Armenia will let political fire loose in Armenia. But what is unexpected to me is the segment of the Armenians in the West who, individually or collectively as an organization, oppose Armenia’s tilt towards West, even though they live there and have no intentions of repatriating to Armenia, that is to say to the free and independent Republic of Armenia, Diaspora adviceted since the demise of the first Republic.. The past over thirty years have made that abundantly clear.

We are global nation and the sovereignty of Armenia can only be manifested in its right and ability to have a peaceful collaboration with any nation in the West, especially the U.S., as it does with the East. I am reminded of the following posting from Garo Armenian about the state of the first republic and America's vital assistance., I translated and posted on my blog. It read:

“The Republic Of Armenia was confronted with a widespread famine during the beginning of 1919. The government’s efforts to secure aid from outside had not resulted in any appreciative quantity of help. The Caucasus was under the occupation of the British forces. It was natural that the government of the Republic of Armenia would have expected that the British would be the first to extend help to ameliorate the dire conditions. The British response was rather passive and largely inadequate. The meager assistance the British provided from their reserves was not enough to make a dent in the prevailing condition.

It was under such circumstances that the government decided to immediately dispatch a delegation to the United States of America headed by the Prime Minister Kachaznouni. But for a long time the British occupying forces hindered the departure of the Armenian delegation. After a long delay, on April 16, the delegation received permission from the British forces to depart. Accompanying the Prime Minister were the Minister of Finance Ardashes Enfeyadjian, economist Haroutiun Pilarian and military officer Souren Melikian. I quote Simon Vratsian’s testimony

“The government’s delegation, the appeals by the government and the support of the Diaspora eventually were heard and aid was quickly dispatched. This time around it was the United States of America, the director of the U.S. Food Administration, Hoover, the one who salvaged Europe after the war, who became the real savior of the people of Armenia. Whatever happens, however we regard America’s role in the Armenian Question, we do not forget nor should we forget the U.S. humanitarian assistance to Armenia and the provisions they provided.   

The first American boat arrived to Batumi on March 21 carrying 125,000 sacks of flour. A week later another shipment of 600,000 sacks of flour arrived. To transport the provision, the American government requested from the Armenian Government 579 train wagons and 14 locomotives at a time when all that the Armenian Government had was 16 locomotives and 520 train wagons. The intervention of the American and the British governments was needed. For four days human traffic over the Armenian rail lines was halted and all facilities were appropriated for the transpiration of the flour only.

With the arrival of the American flour, the famine slowly started receding. The country started to embark on its normal course. The people and the government started to devote themselves towards reconstruction and structuring of the governance.” (Republic of Armenia, 2^ndedition, Lebanon).” ( https://vhapelian.blogspot.com/2019/02/republic-of-armenias-economic-status-in.html )

Armenia’s sovereignty, for the global nation we are, is indeed a measure of it establishing peaceful relations with any nation in the East and in the West, and for that matter with any nation in the North or in the South.

 

 

 

Missak Medzarents (Միսաք Մեծարենց): Sweet is the Night (Գիշերն Անուշ է) and its composer (Երգահանը)

 Missak Medzarents (Միսաք Մեծարենց): Sweet is the Night (Գիշերն Անուշ է) and its composer (Երգահանը)՝ Hrant Kevorkian ( Հրանտ Գէորգեան )

Missak Medzarents

Translated by Vahe H. Apelian

The night is sweet, pleasant is the night,

Anointed with hashish and balsam.

On the moonlit road, I pass by intoxicated.

The night is sweet, pleasant is the night…. 

Kisses are blown in from the breeze and the sea,

Kisses from the light blossoming around me.

This night is festive, my soul’s Sunday,

Kisses are blown in from the breeze and the sea. 

But the light in my soul wears out bit by bit.

My lips are thirsty for the single kiss.

It is a joyous night of light and moon,

But the light in my soul wears out bit by bit…

 

The Poet 

Missak Medzarents  (January 18, 1886- July 5, 1908) has been called the most lyrical, most musical poet to write in Armenian. It has been claimed his poetry would be impossible to translate into another language. I hope this translation justifies the tenderness the young poet expressed in his native language. He passed away at the age of 22. He poignantly notes in the poem, turned into a popular song, that the light in his soul wears down bit by bit. He died with thirsty lips longing for the single kiss. He was afflicted with tuberculosis since his yearly youth.

The Composer

The musical composition of the Missak Medzarents' poem was done by the late Hrant Kevorkian, a graduate of Melkonian Institute of Cyprus. He was a family friend and personalized his autobiographical book to my parents where he had noted about them and about my brother and I, and my paternal cousins Stepan and Ara. Hrant's musical composition of the poem became a very popular song at one time and was often sung during dances. 

Anecdotes

There was a group of us sitting and chatting on the veranda of Hotel Lux in an evening. The veranda was on the sixth and last floor. Patches of the Mediterranean Sea came in view, as well as the snow- covered mountaintops in Mount Lebanon in the north. It must have been a serene night especially for the lady from the dusty plains of Aleppo, who was staying in the hotel as a delegate to attend a meeting of HMENETMEN girl scouts that was to take place in Beirut. She was among the group enjoying the evening and chatting. I guess the atmosphere of the day lifted her spirits. Suddenly she took upon herself and started singing the song "Sweet is the Night". After she was done my mother pointed to her that the gentleman sitting on the chair next to her is the song's composer Hrant Kevorkian. It happened that he was actually sitting on a chair next to hers. Needless to say, she was caught in a pleasant and utter surprise. Hrant Kevorkian mentioned the incident in his autobiographical book.   ( http://vhapelian.blogspot.com/2021/06/hrant-kevorkian-hotel-lux.html )

Hrant Kevorkian noted another anectode in his memoir. He wrote that he was at a restaurant in a mountain town resort in Lebanon where Vartevar Antossian was singing. Vartevar noting Hrant’s presence introduces him to the audience and sings the song and invites Hrant to dance it with a female friend from their group.

Գիշերն անոյշ է, գիշերն հեշտագի՜ն,

Հաշիշով օծուն ու բալասանով.

Լուսեղէն ճամբէն ես կ'անցնիմ գինով՝

Գիշերն անոյշ է, գիշերն հեշտագին...։

 

Համբոյրնէր կու գան հովէն ու ծովէն,

Համբոյր՝ լոյսէն որ չորս դիս կը ծաղկի,

Այս գիշեր Տօն է հոգւոյս՝ Կիրակի՜,

Համբոյրնէր կու գան հովէն ու ծովէն ։

 

Բայց լոյսն իմ հոգւոյս քիչ քիչ կը մաշի՜

Շրթունքս են ծարաւ միակ համբոյրին...։

Ցնծագին գիշեր է լոյս ու լուսին՝

Բայց լոյսն իմ հոգւոյս քիչ քիչ կը մաշի...։

 

Missak Medzarents

Hrant Kevorkian's musical composition copied from his book

 

Along the path of a sonnet - Հնչեակի մը հետքերով - the sequel -

 In successive mailings, Dr. Armenag Yeghiayan presented to his readers the ramification of a sonnet by Felix Anvers that gained wide popularity, was translated in many languages and set a trend of a literary genre that was also adopted by a few Armenian poets. Attached are my translations of his mailings. I have also attached the original.  Հնչեակի մը հետքերով գրութեան բնագիրները կցուած են։ Vahe H Apelian 

1. Along the path of a sonnet - Հնչեակի մը հետքերով  - Felix Anvers

http://vhapelian.blogspot.com/2024/03/along-path-of-sonnet_4.html

2. Along the path of a sonnet - Հնչեակի մը հետքերով  - Possible Loves

http://vhapelian.blogspot.com/2024/03/along-path-of-sonnet-felix-arvers-loves.html

3. Along the path of a sonnet - Հնչեակի մը հետքերով  - Pastiches

http://vhapelian.blogspot.com/2024/03/along-path-of-sonnet-pastiches-13_24.html

4. Along the path of a sonnet - Հնչեակի մը հետքերով - Armenian Poets

http://vhapelian.blogspot.com/2024/03/along-path-of-sonnet-armenian-poets-44.html

5. Along the path of a sonnet - Հնչեակի մը հետքերով - More Armenian Poets

http://vhapelian.blogspot.com/2024/03/along-path-of-sonnet-felix-arvers-5.html

Kismet

 I chose to title my translation of Ara Mekhsian’s poem “Kismet”. He had titled it Pakht (western Armenian pronounciatin) or Baxt (eastern Armenian translation), which means fate or luck.

The word kismet comes from an Arabic or Turkish word, which means your lot in life, or your fate or maybe your decisive luck. At times, instead of “fate”, “luck”, the word “kismet” is used because the other two do not fully  embody the happening, although they mean it. I chose to use them interchangeably. There are  also others who use the term "providence".

My translation of Ara Mekhsian’s poem is more an explanatory note than a translation to do justice to the original. Ara writes poems and stories for a hobby. He has an unusual mastery of the Western Armenian language.

Ara is of my generation. I met him on line when I came across a picture of my brother-in-law, he had posted looking for information about his one-time classmate. Krirkor regrettably had passed away. We stuck a friendship. 

Still in his teen, Ara left his parental family and the city he loved, Haleb, the Armenian Aleppo, behind to chart his course in life in the New World. He too crossed oceans and continents and settled in Racine, WI where his paternal uncle was the priest in the Cilician See affiliated Armenian Apostolic Church. In Racine, Ara married Debra and the two raised their two children.

 Life has its twists and turns in store for us we cannot envision in our wildest dreams, nor did Ara and Debra. As of March 17, 2024, they have been married, quoting Ara, 52 years and 4 months and continue to live in Racine, WI.

Բախտը	Kismet
Արա Մխսեան	Ara Mekhsian Translated Vahe H Apelian
Կը հաւատար երկար ատեն, Որ ինք էր տէրը իր կեանքին,  Թէ բախտը սոսկ ատեն-ատեն, Հլու՝ կʼանսար աղերսանքին...   Կեանքի ծովէն նաւով անցաւ Վստահ՝ իբրեւ վարժ նաւավար. Օր մը անգամ միտքէն չանցաւ, Թէ բախտը մեծ դեր կը խաղար... Օր մըն ալ բախտը զինք լքեց, Նաւը խարակներուն խփեց, Շշմեցուց զինք զարկով լախտի.   Ուշ հասկցաւ դերը բախտի... Թէ՝ բախտն անցուց ձեռքէն բռնած Զինք ապահով՝ կեանքի ծովէն, Միշտ աչալուրջ, որ յեղակարծ՝ Սիրենները զինք չթովեն...   Բախտի շունչն էր մղիչ հովը, Բախտն էր նաւուն թին ու ղեկը, Բախտն էր կոհակներ հարթողը, Թէ՝ բախտն էր իրմէ աղէկը...   Հիմա նստած ծովեզերքին‵         Կը խոկայ ելքը իր կեանքին. Թէ, ե՞րբ վերջապէ՜ս կը հասնի   Բալասանն անամոք վէրքին...	He believed for a long time. That he was the master of his life, That luck just now and then, Obediently supplicated begging him…   He crossed the seas by boat As confident as a skilled sailor. Not a day crossed his mind That luck played a big role... One day luck deserted him, The ship hit the rocks, Stunned him with a knocked-down blow.    He realized too late, the role of luck. That it was luck holding his hand paved the way Crossing safely the stormy seas of life, Always watchful that suddenly Temptations did not charm him away ...    The breath of luck was the driving wind all along, Luck was the sail and the rudder, Luck smoothed the paths. That luck was the better of him...   Now sitting by the sea shore Contemplates his life’s exit,  When will it finally arrive? The ultimate comfort of his unmitigated wound...