Yeghishe Charents

 Yeghishe Charents was born  in Kars  in 1897 to a family involved in the rug trade. Yeghishe Charents  was an Armenian poet and public activist. Charents was one of the most outstanding poets of the twentieth century. He spent much of his time in reading. In 1912, he had his first poem published in the Armenian periodical Patani. He wrote many poems. His famous poems are “Blue-eyed Homeland”,
“”Charents-Name”, “Country of Nairi” , “Epical Sunrise”,”Book of the Way”, ”I love the sun sweet taste of Armenia” and etc…
The currency denomination for 1000 drams carried on one of its two sides the photo of Charents and a famous quotation in Armenian of one of his poems “Ես իմ անուշ Հայաստանի արեւահամ բառն եմ սիրում” (I love the sun sweet taste of Armenia).
His home at 17 Mashtots Avenue in Yerevan was turned into a museum in 1975. The Armenian city Charentsavan was named after him.
A victim of Stalinism, he was charged for “counterrevolutionary and nationalist activity” and imprisonedduring the 1937 Great Purge He died in prison hospital.
His works were translated by Valeri brusov, Anna Akhmatova, Boris Pasternak, Arseny Tarkovsky, Louis Aragon, Marzbed Margossian, Diana Der Hovanessian, and others.

A Serenade To My mother

I remember your old face
My precious mother and very sweet
With light wrinkles and lines
My precious one and very sweet.

You are sitting on the porch
Alongside the growing fig tree
Throwing a shadow on your face
My precious mother and very sweet.

You are sitting sadly and silently
Remembering those old days
That have come and also gone by
My precious mother and very sweet.

And you remember your own son
Who had left you and gone far.
‘Where has he gone ?’ You wonder,
My precious one and very sweet.

‘Where is he now?’ You wonder,
‘Is he alive or is he dead?
And what doors has he been knocking?’
My precious one and very sweet.

And you wonder if he’s been tired
Or if he’s been cheated by love;
And in whose laps has he made love?
My precious one and very sweet.

You are thinking sadly
While the fig tree keeps rocking.
Your sorrow has no limits indeed
My precious one and very sweet.

And then sour tears
Drop down your eyes one by one
Upon your weary hands
My precious one and very sweet. 

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