FOR DANIEL VAROUJAN

	By Armand (Aram Andonian), translated by Diana Der-Hovanessian


	Homesick for your own land
	you left the university and splendor
	of Europe and traveled singing songs of home.
	You left singing "I go to the provinces of
	the sun, the fountain of light."
	All the time it was you who was the light,
	the light you called "Blodstream of nature,
	the gown of day."
	It was April, an ironic April of flowers
	reeking of death, not perfume, an April
	with the hyena panting in wait while you
	started out for "the founfain of light."
	They say your eyes were dug,
	your laborer's heart
	torn out. They say the light
	was eaten by
	the beast that day, but
	light cannot be consumed, Daniel.
	The news of your martyrdom plunged the living
	into anguish and drove the
	sane Gomidas
	into eternal mad silence.
	But over and over again mothers
	christen sons
	with your name, Varoujan, for the sake
	of your work dipped in light and for the sake
	of the dawn you foresaw.
	Daniel, Daniel, it is crimson
	in the east.
	Daniel, your light is here.


--
Armand (Aram Andonian) was born in 1925 in Teheran, Iran, and died in
March 2008 in Boston. He has authored more than a dozen volumes of
poetry.  The translator, Diana Der-Hovanessian, was recently given the
Armenian cultural minister's medal for her service to Armenian
literature.