On this day of 1878 year Great Armenian poet and public activist Vahan Tekeyan was born.

Sixty-seven years have elapsed since his death and the recognition of his legacy is universally expanding and his vision is living. Indeed, poet Vahan Tekeyan passed away on April 4, 1945 in Cairo, Egypt. 

Great Armenian poet and public activist Vahan Tekeyan was born on January 21, 1878, in Constantinople. 

He closed his one and only eye to the world, his other eye having fallen victim to his political adversaries. He was an early casualty for the cause of freedom of speech as thugs beat him to near death in 1916 for an editorial he had written. But he survived with one eye blinded. Later on he composed one of the most disturbing and movingly tragic poems about his eye titled, “My Only One.” He was a taciturn and bitter man, ahead of his time, and not fully understood by his contemporaries. He was a virtual recluse in the crowds, on whom a leadership role was thrust.

He was a poor man in terms of materials, however, despite his role in the community, he had left a will behind asking to be buried quietly; no eulogies, no fanfare, no special honors. Perhaps, deep in his heart he was convinced that no one could grasp his soul, his being, his vision to encapsulate in a eulogy.

His coffin was lowered into his grave, one flower dropped on his heart and a handful of soil from Armenia, where he longed to live his last years and be buried in the land of his ancestors.

But history had glory in store for him. Tekeyan is better known and respected today than during his lifetime. “My soul grows today and multiplies like an army marching to the battlefield,” he wrote in one of his poems; his reputation similarly “grows and multiplies” today for the young generation and for posterity.

Many people, who are not very familiar with Armenian literature (and that is not uncommon in these days when our values disintegrate) wonder why so many schools, organizations and cultural centers are named Tekeyan. The answer is brief — because not only he was a poet of universal standing, but also his persona embodied the suffering, the vision and the essence of his people; he symbolized the past, the present and the future of Armenia and the Armenian people.

He was a well-rounded person; a poet par excellence, a teacher, community leader, political activist and an organizational man. He has six volumes of poetry to his credit, fiction, essays and political commentary—although several volumes of poetry appeared after his death, but they mostly did not meet his standards nor his approval. He was a thorough and demanding writer and poet; he demanded more from himself than from others, that is why his austerity did not make many friends for him. He wrote poetry agonizing over each line and rhyme.

During his lifetime, his published poetry volumes were Hoker (Anxieties, 1901), Hrashali Haroutioun (Glorious Resurrection, 1914), Guess Kisheren Minchev Arshaloys (From Midnight to Dawn, 1919), Ser (Love, 1933), Hayerkoutiun (Songs of Armenia and Armenians, 1943) and Dagharan (Song book, 1944).).

These books contain a universe of poetry, emanating and radiating from the concentric form of self, then developing into tragedies and triumphs of his people, to end in a philosophical inquiry about God and the universe.

What Tekeyan willed to his people — in addition to his poetry — was his vision for Armenia’s survival and the Armenian people’s continued existence around the world. Today, the most topical issues on the political forum is the rapprochement between Armenia and Turkey, a process full of hurdles and pitfalls. The poet, deeply rooted in Armenian history has addressed the issue way back in 1930s, grudgingly acknowledging the need to overcome trauma and victimhood, to think clearly about the Armenian people’s political future. Recently, some essays by Tekeyan surfaced in the Armenian media, where a cautious but solid assessment was being made about Armenian-Turkish relations and an objective vision was being projected. Tekeyan knew the Turks better than anyone else; he had also witnessed the atrocity perpetrated against his people and fully reflected those scenes in his poetry. In one of his poems he revolted against God writing: “To hell, send us to hell which you made us know so well, and save your paradise for the Turks.”

Yet despite his occasional outburst and poetic hyperbola, he was somber and calculating when it came to charting the political future of his people.