MY PEOPLE LEAVE THIS LAND

	by Yelena Mkhitaryan


	My people leave this land
	In search of a better life,
	They leave, forsaking
	The places they were born and lived,
	The schools and their childish dreams,
	The friends they played with as kids
	And later discussed serious things.
	They leave, cutting the roots that
	Tie them to the land where their ancestors
	And the greatest of the Armenians lived
			They leave because the times are hard,
			Because those in charge aren't able
			To provide and secure their lives.
			They go with their families and even clans,
			Leaving behind only the feeble and meek,
			Who are unable or unwilling to endure
			The shame and fuss of that unworthy enterprise.
			They go where they can foresee
			A spark of hope and chance.
			They go like blind men, with no tongue,
			Knocking at the door of the country,
			Deaf to their whimpering cries.
			Miserable and downcast,
			They trod along the unknown roads and paths,
			Like herds of men with no names or address,
			Sometimes kept like animals on a reserve.
			What a disgrace for the nation,
			So dignified and wise!
	But I don't blame them for that.
	Who can deprive them of the right to survive,
	To procure a decent living for their sons?
	God has given them a life,
	It is in His power to take it back!
			Still I am sad.
			I know some leave with pangs,
			It is difficult for them to part.
			This I can understand:
			They will miss the majestic sights
			Of Ararat and Aragats,
			The austere looks of the mountains in the far,
			The humble crosses over the temples
			Of Aghpat and Geghard and
			The emerald waters of Lake Sevan,
	The streets of Yerevan permeated with visions
	Of Charents, Isahakyan and Nersessyan,
	Walking in the streets and parks
	Or having a drink in those
	Drafty corners under the arch.
			They leave and this fills
			My heart with endless grief.
			Yet I hope they will come back,
			For the land of Armenia shall withstand
			All calamities and hardships of life
			(History has taught us that),
			New conditions shall reign in the land,
			People shall have a better chance.
	I am certain they will be back,
	For even dead Armenians come back,
	Like Andranik, Saroyan and others have come
	To rest under the Armenian sky.
	Their souls are calmed at last,
	Warmed in the rays of Martiros Saryan's sun,
	Soothed by the magic music of Komitas and
	Fascinating sound of the dooduk by Jivan Gasparyan.
			Yes, they will come back,
			I am more than sure of that,
			For where else they can find things
			So piercingly dear to the Armenian heart!



--
Yelena Mkhitaryan was born in Tbilisi, Georgia.  After graduating
from secondary school in Tbilisi she came to Yerevan where she was
admitted to the English Department of the Yerevan State University.
At present she is professor of General Linguistics and Theoretical
English Grammar at Yerevan State University.  She is the author of a
number of English textbooks and manuals for university students and
numerous articles on linguistics, English grammar in particular.
Writing poems has become a kind of inspiration for her of late, but
she has not published any of her writings yet.