With the war-notes in his ear.
Translated by Alice Stone Blackwell.
THE WIND IS HOWLING THROUGH THE WINTER NIGHT
By AVETIS ISAHAKIAN
The wind is howling through the winter night,
Like to a pack of angry wolves that cry.
My hapless willows bend before its might;
Their broken branches in the garden lie.
Alas, my heart, thy love since childhood’s days