Although 

The day is wet like a door,

by which

from me I enter into you –

my back turned against the noise,

as if when leaving the church.

The bowls of hope,- drunk by me –

stumble behind my flower,

and mote by mote

my bright back bows down

on the impersonal suffixes of your threshold…

And you, suddenly…

not looking, you see me,

that I collapse on you

and you have no which were

to surround my back…

Your arms have remained in the church –

to pray

with the subjunctive of hugging me…

                                                    (Translated from Armenian by Herminée Arshakyan)