Poesie di Hamo Sahyan- Poeta armeno-Biblioteca DEA SABINA
Biblioteca DEA SABINA
Poesie di Hamo Sahyan- Poeta armeno
Il Poeta armeno Hamo Sayan è nato nel 1914. Il 14 aprile la regione Sisian (oggi regione di Syunik ) villaggio Lor e morto il 17 luglio 1993 a Yerevan. Fu un poeta e traduttore.
E valeva la pena che mi chiedessi?
Di Hamo Sahyan
(1914-1993)
….. E forse è stato incontro per farti nascere?
Per dirigere una famiglia, o per il censimento ventilare una testa?
La tua ricerca dell’immortalità di passaggio,
Valeva la pena le pesanti perdite che hai inflitto?
Era giusto che tu facessi esplodere quelle rocce
Per scavare un letto scosceso per farti entrare?
Per ripetere una verità essenziale,
Per trovare una manciata di selfhood,
Dovevi solo agitare una tale schiuma?
Valeva la pena di essere così irritato,
Vista la tua impotenza a tirare insieme
I due poli fuggitivi del tuo essere?
È stato un piacere da parte tua assumersi una massa di preoccupazioni?
Se non dovessi esplodere tempestosamente
E non si respingerebbe lontano dal mondo
Flabby l’umanità e gli uomini sconfinano,
Ti è stato incontrato per rimbombare potentemente?
E poi il tuo essere nato, è valsa la pena?
Tradotto da Armeno da Jack Aslanian©
L’ho avuto
Di Hamo Sahyan
(1914-1993)
Già sono stanco di scorrere con calma,
Dei miei pensieri discorsivi nell’oscurità,
Di parole carceri, di amore cocco.
Sono già stanco.
Di essere senza visto invisibile sui mari vili,
di essere testato in modo come venditore o acquirente,
Di essere bombardati da raffiche di rimprovero,
Sono già stanco.
Sono stanco già di andare invano,
Di accendere candele a divinità finte,
E di applaudire i ballerini hoi polloi.
Sono già stanco.
Sono stanco di torcermi a ogni folata di vento,
Di deridere interiormente il dolore nella mia anima,
Di una mia ombra che mi terrorizza.
Sono già stanco.
Sono stanco di aiutare le persone che sono stanche
Di ripetere le ditte infinitamente recitate…
Sono stanco anche di essere così stanco.
Sono stanca. Così molto stanco.
Tradotto da Armeno da Jack Aslanian©
Eppure mi dicono di comportarmi bene
Di Hamo Sahyan
(1914-1993)
Gli oceani violano le loro frange
E strapparsi senza parsimonia…
Allarmi in abbondanza rendono la vita esasperante,
Eppure mi dicono di comportarmi bene.
Giorni tranquilli, ahimè, volano via
Cosa deve succedere, si può sicuramente sapere?
Il mondo è impazzito, se posso dirlo,
Eppure mi dicono di comportarmi bene.
Che si tratti di grano o di gemme, sono tutti impazziti,
Solletica la pietra, svenimenti di gioia.
Un intero universo è ormai impazzito,
Eppure mi dicono di comportarmi bene.
Un intero universo è ormai impazzito,
I suoi occhi guardano fisso la mia anima…
Nelle mie ceneri brucio senza fiamma,
Eppure mi dicono di comportarmi bene.
Voi pazzi vi siete vicini o allontanati a distanza,
Nelle mie ceneri brucio senza fiamma.
Eppure la mia vita è passata… E mille pietà
Che non sono in grado di diventare pazzo.
Tradotto da Armeno da Jack Aslanian©
And was it worthwhile I wonder?
By Hamo Sahyan
(1914-1993)
… And was it perhaps meet for you to be born?
To head a household, or for the census ventilate a head?
Your pursuit of passing immortality,
Was it worth the heavy losses you inflicted?
Was it fit for you to blast those rocks
To excavate a craggy bed for you to enter?
To repeat a plain essential truth,
To find a handful of selfhood,
Were you just to agitate such froth?
Was it worth getting so riled up,
Given your impotence to pull together
The two fugitive poles of your own being?
Was it good of you to shoulder a mass of worries?
If you weren’t to explode tempestuously
And would not repel far away from the world
Flabby mankind’s and men’s trespasses,
Was it meet for you to rumble mightily?
And then your being born, was it at all worthwhile?
Translated from Armenian by Jack Aslanian©
I have had it
By Hamo Sahyan
(1914-1993)
Already I am tired of flowing calmly,
Of my discursive thoughts in obscurity,
Of prissy words, of coquettish love.
I am tired already.
Of being buffeted unseen on vile seas,
Of being tested so as vendor or buyer,
Of being shelled by volleys of reproach,
I am tired already.
I am tired already of roving vainly,
Of lighting candles to fake deities,
And of applauding dancers hoi polloi.
I am tired already.
I am tired of twisting to each gust of wind,
Of inwardly mocking the pain in my soul,
Of my own shadow terrorizing me.
I am tired already.
I am tired of helping people who are tired
Of repeating endlessly recited ditties…
I am tired also of being so tired.
I am tired. So very tired.
Translated from Armenian by Jack Aslanian©
Yet they tell me to behave myself
By Hamo Sahyan
(1914-1993)
The oceans breach their fringes
And tear themselves up unsparingly…
Alarms aplenty make life maddening,
Yet they do tell me to behave myself.
Peaceful days, alas, do flit away
What is to happen, can one surely know?
The world has gone mad, if I may so say,
And yet they tell me to behave myself.
Be it wheat or buds, they’ve all gone mad,
Tickle the stone, faints of glee.
A whole universe has now gone insane,
And yet they tell me to behave myself.
A whole universe has now gone insane,
Its eyes fixedly ogling my soul…
In my own ashes I burn flameless,
And yet they tell me to behave myself.
You madmen close or distanced afar,
In my own ashes I burn flameless.
Yet, my life has passed… And thousand pities
That I am powerless to become insane.
Translated from Armenian by Jack Aslanian©
Hamo Sahyan (Armenian: Համո Սահյան, real name Hmayak Sahaki Grigoryan; April 14, 1914 – July 16 , 1993) was an Armenian poet and translator.
Biography
Hamo Sahyan was born on April 14, 1914, in the village of Lor, near Sisian of the present-day Syunik region (then the Zangezur uezd of the Elizavetpol Governorate of the Russian Empire). His literary name was formed from the abbreviation of his name and the beginning of his patronymic.
In 1927, he moved to Baku to live with his uncle. In 1935, he entered and graduated from the Linguistic faculty of the Baku Pedagogical Institute in 1939. Between 1939 and 1941, he worked as a literary employee in the Baku magazine Soviet Writer. During the Great Patriotic War, he served in the navy as a sailor of the Caspian Fleet. Having returned from the 1945-1951 war he worked as a literary employee in the Baku newspaper Communist in Armenian.[1]
In 1951, Sahyan moved to Yerevan and began working at the newspaper Avangard. From 1954 to 1955, at the start of the Khrushchev thaw, he worked at the magazine Vozni. Between 1965 and 1967, he was the editor-in-chief of Grakan Tert. In 1966, Sahyan signed a petition supporting the unification of Nagorno-Karabakh with Soviet Armenia, alongside Martiros Saryan, Yervand Kochar, Paruyr Sevak, and other major Armenian cultural figures.[2]
The first collection of poems by Sahyan, entitled On the Edge of the Gate (Որոտանի եզերքին) was published in 1946. In the final years of Stalin’s personality cult, Sahyan published three unsuccessful poetry collections. Later he published the collections On High (Բարձունքի վրա) (1955), Nairyan Dalar Bardi (Նաիրյան դալար բարդի) (1958), Armenia in Songs (Հայաստանը երգերի մեջ) (1962), Before Sunset (Մայրամուտից առաջ) (1964), and Song of stones (Քարափների երգը) (1968).
In 1972, the collection Open Sesame was published, for which Sahyan was awarded the State Prize of the Armenian SSR. During the 1970s and 1980s, the collections Evening Bread (Իրիկնահաց) (1977), Green-Red Autumn (Կանաչ-կարմիր աշուն) (1980), and Mint Flower (Դաղձի ծաղիկ) (1986) were also published. In 1998, a collection of typical poems by Hamo Sahyan, Don’t Let Me Go (Ինձ բացակա չդնեք), was posthumously published. He did translations of Pushkin, Yesenin, Garcia Lorca, and others. He died on July 16, 1993, in Yerevan. The remains are buried in the Komitas Pantheon.[3]
About Hamo Sahyan
Hamo Sahyan was the correct man, he played and embarrassed himself during the game, he fought during his fight, he took a long time to realize that he looked like authentic literature, and he withdrew during the withdrawal. Hrant Matevosyan
This poet, Hamo Sahyan, comes from quails that fell in one of the Zangezur gorges. No, these are not just landscapes that Sagyan brought to our poetry, in the folds of these landscapes, in his largest layers, there is a movement of a just and kind, great and noble soul, the whole history of the soul, and a true poem is nothing more than the history of the soul hidden in the depths of images.
Hamo Sahyan’s poetry continues to nourish readers, heals their wounded nerves and souls. [4]
References
- Աղաբաբյան. Արդի հայ գրականություն.
- · Shakarian, Pietro A. (2025). Anastas Mikoyan: An Armenian Reformer in Khrushchev’s Kremlin. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. p. 105. ISBN 978-0253073556.
- · “Համո Սահյան. դասախոսություն”. SARC (in Arabic). 22 April 2019. Retrieved 8 May 2024.
- · «Համո Սահյան․ Haymard.am», «Համո Սահյան․ Haymard.am». “«Համո Սահյան․ Haymard.am»”. Archived from the original on 2016-03-13.
