***

City, speak to me in God` s language

And I won` t  understand you…

 

One day the desire to see you will spread through the whole heavens

Pod after pod the parts of your presence will fill my eyes.

Lying in my bed I will hug the pillow and will feel

That I press the ugly happiness of your streets to my breast.

 

Closing my eyes with my hands

And the noon will be closer to my lips

And the colourless distance of the heavens will rev in the air with the presence of blue birds

And the tattooed barbed wire will bleed my front.

 

The uncalled-for abuse of AND-s is weary to me

And sitting beside candles like lotus too.

Accept my religion, city, that became poetry now and then…

 

After drinking coffee with your lips that have tobacco taste

Entangle your pray under your lids that have no night.

I` ll miss the journal-tableclothes of your ”Jeansnoc”

And your parody, in which  there is more of you than you.

 

Love me, my city, this is me-

More expensive or cheaper than your pies with cheese.

If you are frozen, hug me-now I have heat

If it is hot-multiply two of Satan-I` ve already hugged you.

City, I` m inside you, like a mother carrying her unborn baby

Birth me or as you like. I` m yours…..

Author`Hasmik Simonian

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