I do not like at all the fatal ending, My life to me will never seem too long. I do not like - whatever season - spending, My time without singing merry songs. I do not like when cynicism is blatant, Donít trust enthusiasm of any kind, And more - when someone reads my private letters, Unseen and silent, spying from behind. I donít like any thing half-done or would-be - When interrupted thoughts are left unsaid. I do not like when in the back they shoot me, Nor would I like to be shot in the head. I hate those gossip-like interpretations, The worms of doubt, the needle of acclaim, The never-ending harsh discrimination, The mental pressure, when your nerves are tamed. I donít like when one acts assured and haughty, - Iíd rather see my brakes no longer act. Iím sad to see the honor code forgotten And people slandering behind each otherís back. No pity do I feel for those hopeless - For broken wings no sorry - itís because I donít like those who force, nor those forceless, - I pity only Jesus on the cross. Donít like myself when falling off my goal, Iím saddened when the innocent they beat, Donít like them digging deep into my soul. Just hate them spitting cruelly into it. I do not like big halls, where people shout And change a million for a coin apiece, And even if the world is turned about - There is no way for me to like all this!
© Ara Asaturyan. Translation, 2016