Husik Ara "The Lituanian Girl "

I am not a boy of a home,

and I have fled from home on the narrow way of night

and I am looking for the footstep marks of my nostalgia lost I don’t know under which stone.

My hands wait for you, the woman with a cat’s claws,

You lose nothing of you – it doesn’t matter in the dark or in light –

and come back with your green eyes of a snake; be back as you were once.

My fingers know in details and by heart

the lines and curves of your wild body and even its every fluff.

Your vision gobbles the colour of my eyes,

and my face is ruined and pulled down since the day

you went away, humbly saying:

“ Wait for me, for I could come back at every moment.”

“You spoke Like God,” I said,

“so I’ll wait for your second coming.”

Now the Lithuanian woman has been squeezed between the thorny

space of the nostalgia and the wall – a licked remnant,

a homeless woman, picked up from a bench

on the 2-nd, March.

“I don’t have a name; call me Lithuanian,” these were the very words she said.

Almost for the two halves of the night

she was  having drinks and was smoking among the thorns of my nostalgia,

just like you, as an apple made in two halves.

I would have liked to become you.

There was an old log, between the road and the forest,

and I would regularly sharpen my nails

with bold jumps scratching the log and

Husik Ara, photo by Maram Ava

imitating the snakes with my gaze

and I did everything I had known from you.

“…for I could come back at every moment.”

I’ll wait for your second coming, the given promise as God did,

may be till the Resurrection, to the Second Coming,

sleepless and awake.

But until then I’ll be looking for your footstep marks.

I’ll find a Lithuanian or Gipsy or Kurdish woman

in the spring and summer and autumn and  probably in a winter garden,

yes, I’ll find one of them, or else anyone of other nation,

and I’ll squeeze with your nails and teeth

and with the thorns of my nostalgia that is just like your appearance.

So may ever blessed be the footstep of the god like you.

Translated in verbatim by Meruzhan Harutyunyan

(no rhyme, good rhythm)

"The Lituanian Girl " in Armenian