With focused efforts In language, resonances Strung are left unsaid.
Vulgar, profane friction Strings to bows Framed in fame, Fancy feet’n rags
Nomadic notes prance Not free emergent joy But dominant, dormant lament Eight deranged drops of soviet blood Immersed in Jewish songs Cycled in ravenous applause Babiyar, bulbs strung high To brandish love’s triumph Over a Georgian Tzar.
Stale in rhetoric Bear in a sterling grave Manuscripts march in man’s bugle Symphony to war and blight.
Bedros Afeyan Russian Festival Davies Symphony Hall San Francisco, CA June 21, 2002