Nagorno-Karabagh:

How much can we ask the living to pay,

redeeming the wrongs of the dead?

The complex calculus of war, of struggle...

when does the drive for freedom

cross the bounds to greed?

Life lives on life, all bound into one,

every subject object, every feeder

fed, drinking air from one another’s lungs,

my pulse, your dance, one beat,

one heart, creating together

this tangled web of love & pain,

loss & gain, spun from a single thread.

When I claim what is mine,

that piece of your heart do I devour?

The complex calculous of enmity, love...

war indeed the king & mother of us all.

Endless cooperative endeavor of conflict,

world weaving, unweaving itself forever...

can we learn, ever? When the lion takes

& the deer gives, what is it that is lost

or won? A complex calculus... knowing

your body my soul, how can i speak to you of

“rights”? One music, one dance, one

intricate figure, my breath in your lungs,

your cry in my throat, my song in your voice,

taking & making, can we ever learn?

What flowers will this soil

breed out of our blood, what

fruit will feed our children, what children

will we birth? Gazing

in the mirror of one another’s eyes.

can we see ourselves, see past ourselves?

This complex calculus, can we ever learn?

-1993 Margo Avakian