Sara Margaryan

you waste yourself on words and become a long sentence for the deaf a crooked reproach for the blind an absolute nonsense for the insane +++ By Sara Margaryan If you feel somebody inside yourself gnawing your intestines and biting a piece of your heart do not become a victim of false suppositions of pregnancy it may once devour you and live your life instead If you feel the pain being the cause of your nightmares change the tape of the consciousness uncover your soul get hold of the beast inside you and look into its eyes: if you see emptiness there - do away with it and if you see your own reflection thenthen I `m not your advisor....

If you feel somebody inside yourself gnawing your intestines and biting a piece of your heart do not become a victim of false suppositions of pregnancy it may once devour you and live your life instead If you feel the pain being the cause of your nightmares change the tape of the consciousness uncover your soul get hold of the beast inside you and look into its eyes: if you see emptiness there - do away with it and if you see your own reflection thenthen I `m not your advisor....

Write something about life - You will ask me one day. It will probably be one of the quiet evenings When the nature dives into the sunrays And present itself to its utmost - Then you are mostly inclined To philosophical talks. I will not answer to your request Because I always write about life, Regardless of the form In which I present my writings: Not necessarily poetry but lines Without beginning or end....

You told me once, That starlessness cures insomnia. Well, I blinded all the stars But stayed awake. Perhaps it was the punishment For my impudence, And a mere indulgence, That I was saved from death. If so, then I should appreciate it, Perhaps I could not I continued to seek feverishly All the possible ways to switch off my mind And plunge into darkness. I had no more stars To distract my painful attention - Yet I had them in my memory....

When darkness covers your existence, When sounds ache like wounded heart - Forget attempts of false resistance, And give your life another start. If fails - you’ll see and feel its failure, But if succeeds - that’s your reward. Life smiles just only when you pay her, If not - await the fire and sword… February 2004-02-20 By Sara Margaryan If you feel somebody inside yourself gnawing your intestines and biting a piece of your heart do not become a victim of false suppositions of pregnancy it may once devour you and live your life instead...

We seem to have lost That affection for being, The love of discovery, Pleasure of seeing. We praise the misfortunes, And sink in depression, Feel comfort in lying, Performing aggression. The flowers lost Their fragrance and beauty. We live in the world Of time-tables and duties. We feel so bored In the silence of nature, That take to the forests Tape-recorders and pagers. With constant reproach And endless refusal ?...

God gave me birth once and seated me on the leaf of a big plantain I grew up and turned into the original image given to the first human maid - Eve What are my further doings?

Beauty to me is red, Drinking the dew from poppies - Breathing gentle narcotics, Flying with ladybird. Beauty to me is red. Beauty to me is white, Bridal imagination - Purity smells carnation. Churches - eternal light. Beauty to me is white. Beauty to me is blue, Sea in the sky’s reflection, Moonstone without fractions - Born as it is, not glued. Beauty to me is blue. Beauty to me is black, Smoggy deserted towns, Masks on the gloomy clowns, Pearls on mulatto’s neck....

XXXXXXXX By Sara Margaryan They say that I should look above And see the planet Mars At night it burns on brown sky And marks it with its orange light They say it happens only once In sixty thousand years That Mars appears on the sky And come so close to Earth They say and I believe them But oh, I don’t see it Here the sky is dark Here the stars are drunk Here I don’t fly Here I don’t have Armenian sky...

you live in a city where stone scrapes the sky where the starts are hidden behind the roofs you live in a city where the smoke of cigars makes the nostrils loose where the motion leads the crowd where the snow melts in mouth caught in air and coughed out I sleep on grass of emeralds and eat unripe and dusty plums right from the trees I share bread with funny ducks and quite seldom smoke cigars ?...

Follow me. Under the moon, Where we usually meet. Follow me. Shattering stones Will fall from the roofs. We will never be happy together, But today? just follow me. Pure, innocent? don’t utter a word. The petals faded. Follow me. I don’t play games, I don’t stay sober. I wait for the impossible. Reward my patience. Follow me. I still believe in you, my angel, Your empty eyes? immortal glimpses....

Do you love the world you live in? Have you ever caught your own mind on despising it? If yes, have you ordered yourself Immediately to stop it? No? Then don’t you think you still lead a hidden hypocrisy? Myself a wonderer, I always loved them - Shabby, with searching eyes, Curious, miserable at times, Shadowy, like ghosts, Proud in their purity of mind - Beggars.

The absence of pain is so fragile, that, being afraid of destroying it, I clinch my fists and try to memorize every second of its peacefulness. Then it gives way to pain again and, unable to touch my own fingers, I perceive them as bearers of unknown strength and energy. And I leave them clinched, my teeth shivering, my eyes wide open, and my mind occupied by the most impossible of the dreams: to start living in memories, memories of the fragile absence of pain....

It is appalling news! you will say and make a phone-call to your close friend to spread the rumor she will in her turn call her close friend and they will all in their turn call their closest friends until one day you will receive a phone-call from one of your close friends with that appalling news which by that time you will have forgotten about and then you will take the phone-receiver....

You open your eyes ? A child with colorful dreams. The rays of the sun Make your dark deep eyes Lighter, brighter and take away Their adult sadness. Those were the last rays You have ever enjoyed, girl! The gunmen rushed into the room ? The sun turned into a cloud, groaning At your helplessness to understand? Oh, little girl! Close your big black eyes! Those taken away Will never be back again....

External revolt is a way to bring about internal freedom? Jim Morrison No. It’s not the freedom, It’s self-satisfaction, It’s homage to oneself, It’s the whim of desire. External revolt? Who cares? Who worships? If the earthquake is here And you are not under ruins. Then what? Cigarettes in the cave? Empty bottles and hiccups after sunset? Rattling roofs and trampled insects? Overthrown thrones and bloody puddles? No. It’s not the freedom, It’s self-deception, It’s beauty in brackets, It’s a road “to graveyard” External revolt for internal freedom?...

There are moments in life When things cease to matter. Such moments are rare and valuable, But they cause the worst of the pain. When sun burns with its utmost heat, When you hold a hand And it becomes the most precious thing in the world, When the degree of despair is uncountable, Yet there seems to be no grief acknowledging it. Thus comes the solemnity of the most banal paradox- The intermingling of the purity with evil, Life with death, Scorn with excitement....

I have never seen the sky with bursting fountains of bombing. I have never seen that parade of stars coming down on the night city. Am I considered happy after all? Or have I missed something important? I have never, never in my life seen wounded children. March 2003, Austria When chaos rains? What happens in the chaos? It rains? My space is mine, But I don’t need it As I am alone....

Walking through the rain Towards the sun, the sun in its decline ? Can you grasp a ray? Measuring the steps from home to woods ? Woods with no end. Murmuring? the dead leaves, River beneath the slope, Tender yellow flower drops In the brownish dry leaf sea. Can you hear the rain On the tree crones? Can you name the bird above? Its song is its triumph, Triumph of the nature, Alive over the dead....

If you put your large piece of pizza Back on the plate for a while, Maybe you will hear my words, Trying to penetrate into your mind. Maybe you will see the flash of my eyes, When I look at you, reading letters Sent once by me, so long ago. If you put away your glass of juice, I will be able to present you With an unforgettable taste of nectar, I will dance the taste of the spring And will turn into the summer heat, If you only put away your book for a while And take off that ugly hat, I will see your eyes more clearly And will smell your short brown hair Just before you go to take shower....

He passes the places As others pass their years. He doesn’t keep diaries, He doesn’t take photos. This symbolic existence Becomes his daily obsession, He treats his own ‘self’ As a reflection in the rain puddle. Who can stretch a hand for help? Who can make his life more meaningful? If the birds stop singing, Will he become more unfortunate?

Today was a morning - to morning, Today was a day - to day, Today will come a night - to night, And you will be the only one Who has ever been informed And will ever be informed About such stupid and clever miracles As living, and dying, and smiling Because you’re yet the only one Who can watch my day and laugh Instead of crying and blaming myself For wasting the treasures of the daylight And spending the best years of life On dark curtains, endless row of books And innumerable calls from non-friends Who are aware of my hobby - conversing You will laugh, because you’re my own reflection In the mirror by the night table where I put All the things I need at night - pencils, Mug of beer, a thick book without text - blank, A telephone receiver and photo-album, And sometimes some medicine against headache You live in that mirror and laugh at my faults....

Through the daytime light it seems tiny and full - the night turns its diminutiveness into a mysterious space - dark yet dimly lit, it resembles the chorus on the backstage - the important but modestly shaded component of the performance. The cosines of the streets acquires a special color - the color of night, mixed with the yellowish shop-windows, greenish pubs and different shades of the brown-gray. It has nothing of the brightness the big cities sparkle with: advertisement sheets, illuminations - simplicity of noble lanterns makes a touching composition with the full moon, or, more often, its complete absence....

If your smile disappears one day I will lose the sense of direction And will switch off the sun I will stumble on the smoothest of the ways And will not wish to taste the sweetest of the honeys My steps will resemble the ones of a wounded beast My eyes will see the darkest pots in the purest creatures I will start passing out gradually Please, smile forever.

People shout at each other, as if they know, what it is - justice. They try to prove to others that there exist many ways of problem solution, but they do not see the core of the problem: their own faults. People move stones from mountains to build houses, but they do not realize that roofs cannot replace mountains. People drink waters of the lakes, but one day the lake will dry, their thirst will become stronger....

Your moon is hanging I try to catch its blue light But it slips away. River is fragile Snow melts into the water It hurts the river You spread your colors And I perceive them fully You are perfect, God.

If your smile disappears one day I will lose the sense of direction And will switch off the sun I will stumble on the smoothest of the ways And will not wish to taste the sweetest of the honeys My steps will resemble the ones of a wounded beast My eyes will see the darkest pots in the purest creatures I will start passing out gradually Please, smile forever…

You are trying continuously to reach for life and you don’t mind all the obstacles on your way. Some people admire your stubbornness, others gossip, that you are a failure. You don’t mind them, either. You scrawl on your knees, jump as high as your feet can lift you, run as long as there is a road ahead, with widely stretched arms, ready to grasp it - the life. Sometimes, of course, it passes by, unnoticed, because of your high speed, but the main thing is, that you believe in success....

Your only name, your only sigh, Your hugeness fills the gaps of darkness. Your breath, like wind, will never die, On day of thunder, storm and lightning. Your palm will shadow from heat, Your eyes will give no sign of fear. With no reason to retreat The day will gently disappear. And creatures, out in the space, Will fly and reach the edge of Ever. The planet with rotating pace Will leave the universe forever....

The Earth cries out in despair, With dreadful eyes it looks around: There’s so little left to spare, Who can be whipped for that or bound? If Beauty seeks refuge in garlands, Pretending blind, but badly wounded - Let not us hide in shrieking silence, Let not subdue to being hounded. Which of the senses claims forgiveness? When foliage dies, who buries ashes? Without smoke who needs the chimneys, Or stormy sea without splashes?...