“Love” from the Armenian of Paruyr Sevak

It always comes by roads uncharted and unmapped,
Like water falling during rain or spring-time thaw,
That’s love.

For centuries now the Dutch fight hard to capture land
From sea, the omnipotent sea,
They wrestle sand from water, grain by grain, one handful at a time,
That’s love.

As the colossus of a ship approaches
The low-hanging bridges of the river,
They fling their arms up in the air—
A gesture of immediate surrender.
That’s love.

You wittily converse with everyone around you,
Producing answers, swift like a machine,
But in your mind, you only speak with her,
The one that’s far from you,
Whose name is all you have in your possession—
A passport missing the official stamp,
That’s love.

The drumming of your arteries resounds like stillicide,
The kind that eats its way through rocks,
At night, insomnia weaves an impenetrable net,
It’s not a net for catching fish,
It’s thick enough to strangle people
That’s love.

You find you’ve grown vulnerable and tender
As if you’ve suddenly been forced to shed your skin,
That’s love.

Two eyes relentlessly pursue you,
Two eyes—two stamps that burn their brands into your life,
into the water that you drink, into your world
into your every drop of blood.

Two eyes,
Two stamps,
Two seals,
Two branding irons,
That’s love.

Translator’s Note: For Heather Braun

Paruyr Sevak (1924-1971) was one of the preeminent Soviet Armenian poets and intellectuals of the third quarter of the last century. He is best remembered for his long lyrical-philosophical poem “Anlreli Zangakatun” (Ever-Ringing Belfry), based on the life of Komitas Vardapet. June 17 marked the 39th anniversary of his death, the result of an automobile “accident.”