The Armenian grief is a shoreless sea,
An enormous abyss of water;
My soul swims mournfully
On this huge and black expanse.
It prances at times – enraged,
And looks for the shore – blue and serene,
Where sometimes, it wearily dives deeply
Looking for fathomless rest;
But it will never reach the bottom of this sea.
It will never reach the shore.
In the Armenian grief – on the black expanse
My soul lives and mourns…
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Armenian grief
From guest gneeg (contact)
Would love the opportunity to read this in Armenian. When I was in grade school my grandmother used to find herself in this sea of grief in the early evening hours. After having cooked the family a delicious meal she would retire to the yellow chair in the living room and tell me tales of her genocide survival. She never wept openly but her eyes swam. No grief counseling for her generation. Just survival accompanied by constant emotional pain.
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