Western Armenia

You have not yet allowed me to shout out all that I have seen in my eighteen months of suffering… And yet I have the need to express, to roar, to the whole world, what my eyes have seen, and what no eyes have ever seen since the world existed, so much so that to hear me humanity would turn pale with horror and the expatriate’s pen would break on paper…

The interminable and gloomy procession of young men, old men, women and children, the scenes of separation and butchery, in heaven God petrified, on earth men turned into violent beasts, the world changed into a sea of blood and an ocean of crime, the torrent arising when the sword is weary, the imminent fire when the river rears up swollen with corpses…

I remained alive to launch from my throat and send to the four winds of the world, to all the Armenian people, the groans of thousands of slit throats, of mouths dripping with blood, to make burst like lightning, from the depths of my eyes, the flames of the cries for help and then of the prayers for vengeance which sparkled in the fading flicker of the last glance of thousands of women of Armenia…

I have remained alive as a witness, a messenger and an ambassador for thousands of martyrs, to be able to stammer out at least a small part of all the horrors that were accomplished… 

Here I stand before you, with clots of their blood clinging to my clothes, with the heart-rending pleas of their supreme gazes in my eyes, with the terrifying streams of their cries in my ears… I have not even spelt out what I have to say, but you will understand everything by my features, by my appearance, by my strange movements…

I have stayed alive to tell everyone, as envoy and messenger, that the desires to live and the frozen smiles, the unborn dreams and the smothered flowers, the embryos under the earth and the young plants burnt by the sun, will wake up watered by water, revived by a divine love, will blossom and bloom, will become fertile and grow.

This admirable page, written by a young girl, Miss Astlik Bizian, who recently fled from Turkish Armenia and arrived in the Caucasus, appeared in one of the last issues of the newspaper “Hayastan”, the organ of Armenian refugees.