Khor Virap, Armenia

On my way towards Iran (finally managed to get a visa!) I visited Armenias capital, Yerevan and then Khor Virap, a monastery near the turkish border, with wonderful views towards mount Ararat (where, according to the bible, Noahs Ark stranded).

Some days earlier, back in Tbilisi, I spent one evening at a „poetry night“ on the rooftop of an old factory, where (besides hearing many georgian, russian, danish and indian poems) I was introduced to one by Elizabeth Bishop that struck a chord with me. It’s called One Art, and is about „The art of losing“.

Now one month into my travel, I already came across a great number of lovely people and places along the way and sometimes found myself wanting to hold on to them. But being on the road, moving forward, traveling becomes a practice of „losing farther, losing faster“, as it’s put in the poem.

Elizabeth Bishop – One Art

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.