Bedros Tourian

Bedros Tourian Poems

Bedros Tourian Biography

Bedros Tourian or Petros Duryan (1851-1872) was a famous Western Armenian poet, playwright and actor. Bedros Dourian (alternate spelling: Petros Duryan, Petros Tourian, Bedros Tourian) was born to a poverty stricken family whose father was a struggling blacksmith in Istanbul. A romantic poet with keen sensitivity, he amassed a beloved following of admirers during his brief time on earth. He died of tuberculosis at the tender age of 21. He left, however, a rich legacy of drama and poetry that has captured the hearts of his people ever since. A true patriot, his historical plays were inspired by a yearning for national liberation. His Armenian school teacher was Hagop Baronian, the famous satirist. Educated in French, Dourian was well read in Hugo, Lamartine, and de Musset and brought a lyrical and sentimental quality to his native language of Armenian poetry. Spontaneous, eloquent and richly endowed with imagery and metaphors, his poems reveal natural artistic brilliance, and paved the way with innovation from the old style of writing. Critics have credited Dourian with originating the modern lyric tradition in verse. His poetry has been translated into Russian, French, English, German and Italian. Even in translation his poetry touches the soul of the reader. The Armenian theater was his love and despite his father’s opposition, he pursued an active theatrical life, writing plays and performing on the stage. Given the poverty of his family, the financial advantage that acting afforded him may well have been a factor in defying his father’s wishes. He quickly gained recognition and sustained popularity through his plays. Some of his theatrical works include “Black Lands” (1868), “Artashes, the Peacekeeper” (1969), “Fall of the House of Arshakids” (1870), “Capture of Ani, the Capital of Armenia” (1871), and “Theatre or Outcasts” (1871). “Theatre or Outcasts (or Wretched People)” takes on the issue of social injustice and moral decay. In the play two lovers commit suicide on stage. Had Dourian lived a longer life, he would have had opportunity to develop a more sophisticated theatrical repertoire. History remembers Dourian more for his verse than his dramas, although his drama initially brought him fame during his lifetime. Knowing that he would die young, he rode the roller coaster of emotion, complaining to the Almighty in one poem and beseeching forgiveness in another. Unrealized dreams and an anxiety to live to contribute to his nation caused him deep pain and sorrow, which are reflected in his writing. The following poem, Little Lake, is an allusion to the fact that apparently Tourian who was in love with an actress, overheard her scornfully saying, “Oh him? He is trembling and so pale—he might even die one of those days!” (which, sadly, he did).)

The Best Poem Of Bedros Tourian

My Death

When Death's pale angel stands before my face,
With smile unfathomable, stern and chill,
And when my sorrows with my soul exhale,
Know yet, my friends, that I am living still.

When at my head a waxen taper slim
With its cold rays the silent room shall fill,
A taper with a face that speaks of death,
Yet know, my friends, that I am living still.

When, with my forehead glittering with tears,
They in a shroud enfold me, cold and chill
As any stone, and lay me on a bier,
Yet know, my friends, that I am living still.

When the sad bells shall toll - that bell, the laugh
Of cruel Death, which wakes an icy thrill -
And when my bier is slowly borne along,
Yet know, my friends, that I am living still.

When the death-chanting priests, dark browed, austere,
With incense and with prayers the air shall fill,
Rising together as they pass along,
Yet know, my friends, that I am living still.

When they have set my tomb in order fair,
And when, with bitter sobs and wailing shrill,
My dear ones from the grave at length depart,
Yet know, my friends, that I shall be living still.

But when my grave forgotten shall remain
In some dim nook, neglected and passed by, -
When from the world my memory fades away,
That is the time when I indeed shall die!

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