O Goddess, I have now washed my conscience from feeble religions,
And I walk to You gracefully. My slippers are still holy.
Open the marble door of your temple, let me mark your forehead with blood...
Open your altar and give me the red power of my Ardashessian ancestors...
Hear me, Golden mother, fertile sister, sister of goodness,
The giver of abundance and Goddess of Ancient Armenians,
With the morning of Navasart, Your former race is festive...
Allow me to pray on my knees in front of your image...
Hear me, Rose of Miracle, goddess with golden feet,
White Bride of Night and Mistress of Sun,
And radiant nakedness of Aramazt's Veil,
Let the sun light with one ray your altar again...
I believe in You. Standing firm on the hills of Bakrevant,
I, a pagan of many centuries and your son armed with arrows,
As a messenger and implorer I come to You grandly,
Hear me, my Haigian castanets were born from the Koltan earth...
I come as a pilgrim. Wearing a chlamys longer than my height and green twigs in my hand as wands,
Here is a silver pot with rose essence to anoint your breasts...
Here is an urn-shaped incense dish where I cried for your ruin with my tears...
I walk toward You with precious roes following my shadow...
From the hills of Bakrevant the pagan life flows,
Sons of the sun, magnificent, dressed in muslins,
After their training with bows, spears and arrows, on the threshold of your place of sacrifice,
Let them pierce their swords into the necks of mighty bulls...
Let the orderly flock of turtle-doves take flight toward your statue
From the shoulders of fruitful Armenian brides. Let the water games of the Day of Roses begin...
And let sixteen year old girls surround your altar,
Let them offer you their magical bodies, O Great Mother of Sageness...
Let me take your vengeance of twenty centuries for you today,
O Goddess Anahid. There I have thrown in the fires of your altar,
The two poisonous wings of my destroyed wooden cross,
And be joyful, O Golden mother, I shall burn a pestilent bone from the ribs
of The Illuminator for you...
I beg You, of all powers you, Beauty second to none,
By offering your body to the sun, impregnate yourself with its Element,
And give the Armenians the gift of an invincible, formidable God...
From your diamond womb, O Goddess, give birth to a formidable God for us...
Feedback/Comments: The email address of Shant Norashkharian is:
MASSISSAR@AOL.COM
ARI (ARMENIAN REFORM INSURGENCE)