MORNING
By HAROUTUNE TOUMANIAN
Day dawned. Bright tongues of scarlet flame
Shot up into the sky,
The livid heav’ns blushed, and became
A sea of crimson dye.
The sun his fiery beams unrolled
Like strands of coloured thread;
Embroidered all the clouds with gold,
And blue, and green, and red.
Then o’er the mountain, full in view,
Nature’s great Monarch rose:
And from his tent of Royal blue
Hurled darts upon his foes.
Eternal foe of Gloom and Night,
On high he raised his arm;
His shield of gold, all shining bright,
Sheltered the world from harm.
The Founding of Van
“It is needful that we build for ourselves a city and palaces in this balmy clime and beautiful country, by the side of these pure waters.”
Moses of Khorene.