we saw wings of a dove on the road, my dear
torn wings of a dove
we saw huge buildings and big cars, dear
the big cars drove us through the labyrinths
and we saw big cities, dear
and I can`t forget, dear
the muddy and rubbed small wings of a dove
in the dust of the noisy and plotting road of the big city
and you rubbed them guilelessly and passed
I can`t forget, dear
the way I hugged you
kissed your cheek
and you cried-bis bravo!
and insisted on the repetition
I just can`t forget, dear
I leaned my head against your shoulder
you put your feet on the stone and it made me angry
dear, your body became like a coffin and called me
and I blew up on it
there was cold wind
we weren` supposed to catch a cold
but we did it
later we were leaving the old city endlessly
and how beautiful the old city was on that cloudy weather, dear!
so close and romantic like the loneliness of a loan man
and a bound dog was unwilling to bark
and how did that dog get we weren`t strangers to each other?
I was acclaiming your name incessantly
-and how good your name sounds, my pagan god!
and how passionate and fresh it was
-and how peaceful you are, just like a Christian
and how much I love you when you love me!
and what kind of wind it was-
great and high wind!
and I was running here and there
and wind would blow me away if you didn`t take my hand, dear
I was too light, open, springy
and my body was the homeland of Death, dear
-how, nice it is to call you-My dear!
and again – dear and endlessly – dear
you were happy
as vardan hakobyan says-you announced,
-I was happy!
I was watching you coming down on the staircase
the way you approach the taxi
the way you looked from the window and the way
I smiled with naked and sincere love
and I was waving my hand in the air
where there were crows, wind
and there was your acrophobia
and there was my wish: I wanted continuously to cry and I was ashamed
and you said, ”You` re happy, you don`t need to cry. ”
we saw torn wings on the road
It`s not important who left them there
they were torn wings and you rubbed them guilelessly
and how high wind it was, dear, but you took my hand
not to let wind blow me away.
Author` Hasmik Simonian