Ode to Charles Aznavour
Years ago when I was young
I didn’t know what was right or wrong,
I didn’t know who wrote the song:
“Yesterday when I was Young…”
While his disc was spinning in my room,
Fantasies were dancing on their way
Into my heart, and crawling under my skin,
Daydreams sprout and bloom.
His voice was running like a mountain river,
Kissing, caressing lonely rocks along the way,
His words were full of truth and life’s flavor,
Full of wisdom of whispering waves.
His music poured like a warm summer shower,
Sometimes as though a waterfall of fiery notes
That fills your heart with love and power
And shines a rainbow over your thoughts.
His stories of love and pain, and passing time
Presented us with grace and charm:
Born from his soul and injected in our blood
With drops of bittersweet tasting wine.
In his songs he regrets his wasted youth,
For this energetic and witty Gemini man
Love was a colorful game that found its way
Into his beautiful poetry, into his world of fame.
Carefree lifestyle introduced by gypsies,
And desire to express oneself through art
Gave birth to a generation of Bohemian artists,
Found its reflection in his song “La Bohème”,
Imagination begets new stars in Heaven
And “Free spirit” was not broken in Montmartre.
Seeing him on the stage, pouring his heart out,
Romancing “Two Guitars”, wondering what life is about,
Then dancing “In the Old Fashioned Way”
Brought joy to my heart, igniting old flames.
His tango on the stage with careful, little steps,
His small frame embraced in his arms,
Spread warm vibrations across space and time,
His spirit was infused with mine.
Touched by his passion, charisma and whim,
I wanted to jump from my seat and hug him.
Singing in French, English, Spanish and Italian,
German, Portuguese, Russian and Armenian,
Amazingly talented this humble, petite man
Was born to be an impeccable humanitarian,
Contained the whole world within
And rose to be a brilliant musician.
We are all mortals, even mama,
In his “La Mamma” he takes us to Italy,
To the room of dying mother
And pleads to the Mother of God,
Ave Maria, take her into your arms,
Lots of love and memories
Lingering above mama.
He can touch your heart like a summer breeze,
He can swing his magical wand with such ease
That you feel the taste of Parisian rain on your lips,
He can bring the autumn chill and tears to your eyes.
In the ocean of your emotions his songs create tides,
Especially the song “They Fell” devoted to Armenians,
The genocide that tears my heart into a thousand pieces.
The internationally known song “She” was a triumph,
She may have been the face he couldn’t forget,
She may have been the reason he survived,
She gave him laughter and made him cry,
She may have been the reason
He created and thrived
To be a universal star.
But for us He is the face we can’t forget,
With his dazzling, big, dramatic eyes,
With kindness and empathy, this dashing handsome man
Is full of life, compassion, and with his celestial heart
Is an inspiration to us, a loving family man.
He is the reason that many survived,
He gave the gift of smile and pure love,
He was destined to be a shining star.
Celebrating true love at an older age,
It’s an amazing gift from the heavens above,
Like the “Petite Flower” grown in the garden of his heart,
He will stay forever young in our hearts, as our true love.
We are blessed to have such an exceptional talent,
Shahnour Vaghenag Aznavourian,
Son of Knar and Michael Aznavourian,
Singer-songwriter, actor, Entertainer of the Century!
His songs are still touching millions of lives,
His star, like Sirius, is shining bright in the sky
Merged with universal source of light
His legend will never die.
By Ankin Timourian
Copyright ©2013
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