LAND OF NAYIRI
(Excerpt from Ergir Nayiri/

"I love my fatherland, but that kind of love
requires another word." —Lermontov

Homer will tell you
how the wanderer feels:
Laertes' son homesick
for the place that he leaves,

always an alien
with loyalties scat-
tered, crossing sea and mountains
to find every joy flat.

I too have been tempted
by voices, taunts, need,
offers and office
but your name, living seed,

I have kept in a clean heart
to replant, like wheat.

Now consumed with the yearning
only you can cure
I return, my country
for the place to be sure

of hearing the music
I have kept and keep,
our sacred songs, Nayiri,
sweet songs to weep.