While growing up, his love for education became more obvious. Motivated with love for learning, Paruyr Sevak entered the secondary school at the age of 6. This was an exclusive case, as the legal age for attending school was 7.

Then he became a student of humanities at Yerevan State University and graduated from it with honors. It was at that time Sevak discovered the poems of another talented Armenian, Yeghishe Charents and developed the wish to be a poet.

Soon he started his studies at the Academy of Sciences, Abeghyan Institute of Literature as a postgraduate. Finally, some years later he became a doctor of philology.

As a poet, Paruyr Sevak brought a new flow of ideas with his poems. They reflected the newly emerging concepts, shifts in social norms and values that Armenians had experienced at that period of time.

He often criticized the corrupted system of the Soviet Union. Sevak remained loyal to his principles and never stopped admiring the uniqueness of his culture. He brought significant contribution to the Armenian poetry. His quotes are still very up-to-date.

Paruyr Sevak died in 1971 in a car accident while driving back to Yerevan.In previous years, he had voiced his criticism of the corruption of the Soviet establishment and for this, many Armenians believe, he was murdered by the Soviet government.
Sevak's poem The Unsilenceable Belfry is dedicated to Armenian composer Komitas Vardapet and to the remembrance of the Armenian Genocide.

We are few, true, but we are Armenians,
And by being few we do not succumb,
Because it is better to be few in life, then to control life by being many.
Because it is better rather to be few, then to be masters by being many.
Because it is better to be few, then to be swindlers.
We are few, yes, but we are Armenians.
And we know how to sigh from yet unhealed wounds.
But with a new juice we rejoice and we cheer.
We know how to thrust into the foe's side,
And how to lend a helping hand to our friend
How to repay goodness which was done to us
 by compensating for each one by ten.
And the benefit of it just in the sun.
We vote with our lives, not only with our hands.
Yet if they desire to rule us with force,
We know how to smoke and how to quench their fire.
And if it is needed to disperse darkness,
We can turn into ashes like burning candles,
And we know as well how to make love with lust,
And we do this always by respecting others,
See we do not put ourselves above anyone,
but we know ourselves.
We are called Armenians
And why should we not feel pride about that?
We are, We shall be, and become many.
http://armenians.com/genocide/wearefew.html

Welcome in
that knocker at your door.
His name is Doubt.
Welcome him in and don't be afraid.
I let him in years ago.
And even let him out.

Welcome him in with rituals
and ceremonies
new greetings and old-fashioned enthusiasm
that burns a bonfire in your breast
so that if suspicion cannot be entirely
extinguished, at least the darkness
in your soul is split.

Welcome him for now.
(I sent him away long ago.)

Welcome in Doubt. Welcome in Questioning.
But don't imagine that I am either his agent
or his prophet.
I am just an old convert, that's all.
But welcome him in.

It's Faith that's missing in this company
not doctrines. Welcome Doubt in.
It's Faith we wait for, not dogma.

Welcome him in with rituals
and ceremonies
new greetings and old-fashioned enthusiasm
that burns a bonfire in your breast
so that if suspicion cannot be entirely
extinguished, at least the darkness
in your soul is split.

Welcome him for now.
(I sent him away long ago.)

Welcome in Doubt. Welcome in Questioning.
But don't imagine that I am either his agent
or his prophet.
I am just an old convert, that's all.
But welcome him in.

It's Faith that's missing in this company
not doctrines. Welcome Doubt in.
It's Faith we wait for, not dogma.

Elder God,
is it true that he who understands and
he who doubts
are synonymous
and every generation
dies by doubting?

I don't see my own movements
and the objects hide.
But without an error or stumbling
I maneuver among them,
live among them,
move like the self-winding clock
which even after losing its hands
keeps ticking and turning
but shows neither minute nor hour.

And dangling between darkness and loneliness
I want to analyze this want
like a chemist
to understand its nature and profound mystery.
And as I try
there is laughter
from some mysterious tunnel,
laughter from an undescribable distance
from an unhearable distance.

A city sparrow with a liquid song
changes its ungreen life
into music from an unechoing distance,
an unhuntable distance.

And words start hurting me
as they mock, echo from the unhutable distance,
the merciless distance.

I walk from wall to wall
and the sound of my steps
seems to come from far away
from that merciless distance,
that impossible distance.

I am not blind
but I see nothing
around me, because
vision has detached itself
and reached that distance
that is impossibly far,
excessively far.

I run after myself;
incapable of ever reaching ors
catching what I seek.

And this is what is called
want and longing or "karot."