LUND AT NIGHT

	By Sara Margaryan


	Through the daytime light
	it seems tiny and full -
	the night turns its diminutiveness
	into a mysterious space -
	dark yet dimly lit,
	it resembles the chorus
	on the backstage - the important
	but modestly shaded component
	of the performance.

	The cosines of the streets
	acquires a special color - the color of night,
	mixed with the yellowish shop-windows,
	greenish pubs and different shades of the
	brown-gray.
	It has nothing of the brightness
	the big cities sparkle with:
	advertisement sheets, illuminations -
	simplicity of noble lanterns
	makes a touching composition
	with the full moon, or, more often,
	its complete absence.

	No cars - almost. A few bikers.
	Quietness intermingles with the sounds,
	echoing from pubs and night cafes,
	very few and usually packed.

	Heart beating becomes
	an inseparable sound of the nightlife -
	one does hear it.
	The pulse on the arm - in tact with the town pulse:
	no hurry at all, time is at your disposal.
	You need not squeeze it, you can strain it
	endlessly,
	and still find some remains.

	Forget-me-not, says the flower.
	I won't ever, murmurs a passer-by,
	a casual pedestrian, an unknown guest of the night
	on a small spot of the earth.
	Forget-me-not.


--
Sara Margaryan was born in Yerevan, Armenia and is currently studying
in Austria. She has written poetry since childhood and has been
published several times. She writes mainly in Russian, but also in
Armenian and English.
Sara graduated from the Yerevan State Linguistic University in 1999.
She has been published in Armenia and Russia, and has participated in
the contest of poets - translators in Armenia, where she won third
prize. She has authored one book of poetry in Russian language, and
presently working at the second one to be published in 2003.