The Hut
Missak Medzarents

I wish I were a hut
On a road in some field,
Or a hut below some hill-
A wayside place for travelers
Alone on their way.
I wish I could call my concern
To the harried travelers,
And on the winding golden road
Make them welcome,
Smoke billowing from my chimney.

I wish I could give comfort
To weary travelers,
And in exchange for their greeting
Do them a thousand kind turns.
Yes, do a thousand good turns,
The fire logs crackling,
The crop of the fertile fields,
All the fruits of autumn
And milk and honey and wine.

I wish I might listen till daybreak
To their praise of the fire,
The song of the traveler at evening,
And, asleep, wrapped in dreams,
I wish I could send off at daybreak
The nightfall comer.

And I wish I might hear at daybreak,
Cordial and happy,
The praise of one who comes at nightfall,
And, at daybreak, see
And wonder all through the night
About the departure of the one who comes at evening.

And patiently all through winter, too,
I wish I might stand along the roadside
With my arms outstretched wide
And in the stance of a beaming beckoner,
Offer with warmth and ready cheer
My fatherly invitation to a frostbitten traveler-
I wish I could always be taken for
The one who beckons travelers to his door.

Oh, if only I could be, could ever be
On a road in some place,
At the foot of some hill,
So that for those who travel
I could be the waiting hut.