The Crane has lost his way across the heaven, <br />From yonder stormy cloud I hear him cry, <br />A traveller a'er an unknown pathway driven, <br />In a cold world unheeded he doth fly. <br /> <br />Ah, whither leads this pathway long and dark, <br />My God, where ends it, thus with fears obsessed? <br />When shall night end this day's last glimmering spark? <br />Where shall my weary feet to-night find rest? <br /> <br />Farewell, beloved bird, where'er thou roam <br />Spring shall return and bring thee back once more, <br />With thy sweet mate and young ones, to thy home <br />Thy last year's nest upon the sycamore. <br /> <br />But I am exiled from my ruined nest, <br />And roam with faltering steps from hill to hill, <br />Like to the fowls of heaven in my unrest <br />Envying the boulders motionless and still. <br /> <br />Each boulder unassailed stands in its place, <br />But I from mine must wander tempest tossed <br />And every bird its homeward way can trace, <br />But I must roam in darkness, lone and lost. <br /> <br />Ah, whither leads this pathway long and dark, <br />My God, where ends it, thus with fears obsessed? <br />When shall night end this day's last glimmering spark? <br />Where shall my weary feet to-night find rest?<br /><br />Hovhannes Toumanian<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-crane-3/
