A GALAXY of glances bright, A sweet bouquet of smiles, A crucible of melting words Bewitched me with their wiles!
I wished to live retired, to love The flowers and bosky glades, The blue sky’s lights, the dew of morn, The evening’s mists and shades;
To scan my destiny’s dark page, In thought my hours employ, And dwell in meditation deep And visionary joy.
Then near me stirred a breath that seemed A waft of Eden’s air, The rustle of a maiden’s robe, A tress of shining hair.
I sought to make a comrade dear Of the transparent brook. It holds no trace of memory ; When in its depths I look,
I find there floating, clear and pale, My face ! Its waters hold No other secret in their breast Than wavelets manifold.
I heard a heart’s ethereal throb; It whispered tenderly: “ Dost thou desire a heart? ” it said. “ Beloved, come to me ! ”
I wished to love the zephyr soft That breathes o’er fields of bloom; It woundeth none, — a gentle soul Whose secret is perfume.
So sweet it is, it has the power To nurse a myriad dreams; To mournful spirits, like the scent Of paradise it seems.
Then from a sheaf of glowing flames To me a whisper stole : It murmured low, “ Dost thou desire To worship a pure soul ? ”
I wished to make the lyre alone My heart’s companion still, To know it as a loving friend, And guide its chords at will.
But she drew near me, and I heard A whisper soft and low: “ Thy lyre is a cold heart,” she said, “ Thy love is only woe.”
My spirit recognized her then; She beauty was, and fire, Pure as the stream, kind as the breeze, And faithful as the lyre.
My soul, that from the path had erred, Spread wide its wings to soar, And bade the life of solitude Farewell forevermore.
A galaxy of glances bright, A sweet bouquet of smiles, A crucible of melting words Bewitched me with their wiles!
P.S. translated from armenian Author: armenian writer Petros Duryan Author of the painting: Armenian artist Sevada Grigoryan