Yeghishe Charents

Yeghishe Charents Poems

Yeghishe Charents Biography

Yeghishe Charents (March 13, 1897 – November 27, 1937) was an Armenian poet, writer and public activist. Charents was one of the most outstanding poets of the twentieth century, touching upon a multitude of topics that ranged from his experiences in the First World War, socialism, and, more prominently, on Armenia and Armenians. An early champion of communism, Charents joined the Bolshevik party, but as the stalinist terror began in the 1930s, he gradually grew disillusioned with Stalinism and was executed during the 1930s purges. His works were translated by Valeri Bryusov, Anna Akhmatova, Boris Pasternak, Arseny Tarkovsky, Louis Aragon and others. His home at 17 Mashtots Avenue in Yerevan was turned into a museum in 1975. The Armenian city Charentsavan was named after him. The first monograph on Charents was published by Simon Hakobyan (1888-1937) in 1924 in Vienna. Among the other researchers of Charents' poetry during that period were P. Makintsyan, H. Surkhatyan, T. Hakhumyan. After the Stalinist terror in 1937 charentsology was banned for 17 years. In 1954 N. Dabaghyan (who previously attacked Charents in the 1930s) published "Yeghishe Charents" critical monograph. Researches on Charents were published by H. Salakhyan, S. Aghababyan, Almast Zakaryan, Anahit Charents, D. Gasparyan and others.)

The Best Poem Of Yeghishe Charents

I Love My Sweet Armenia's...

I love my sweet Armenia's word which is filled with the taste of sun,
I love our old lyre's melody from its mournful and weeping strings,
The vivacious fragrance of the blood-like flowers and the roses,
I love as well the graceful and agile dance of Nayirian girls.
I love as well our gloomy sky, our pure waters, luminous lake,
The summer's sun and the winter's sublime wind with a dragon's voice,
Also the black, unwelcoming walls of the huts lost in the dark,
And I love the thousand-year stone of the ancient cities as well.

No matter where I am yet I shall not forget our mournful songs,
Shall not forget our steel-lettered books which now have become prayers,
No matter how sharply they pierce my heart our wounds so soaked with blood,
Even then I love my orphaned and my bloodied, dear Armenia.

For my longing heart there is not, not even one another tale,
There's no brighter forehead than that of Kouchag and Naregatsi,
Pass the whole world, there's no summit as white as that of Ararat,
Like glory road, unreachable, I love as well my Mount Massis.

Yeghishe Charents Comments