SPRING
By MUGGURDICH BESHIGTASHLIAN
(1829–1868)
O little breeze, how fresh and sweet
Thou blowest in the morning air!
Upon the flowers caressingly,
And on the gentle maiden’s hair.
But not my country’s breath thou art:
Blow elsewhere, come not near my heart!
O little bird among the trees,
The sweetness of thy joyful voice
Entrances all the Hours of Love,
And makes the listening woods rejoice.
But not my country’s bird thou art:
Sing elsewhere, come not near my heart!
How peacefully thou murmurest,
O gentle, limpid little brook;
Within thy mirror crystal-bright
The rose and maiden bend to look.
But not my country’s brook thou art:
Flow elsewhere—come not near my heart!
Although Armenia’s breeze and bird
Above a land of ruins fly;
Although through mourning cypress groves
Armenia’s turbid stream flows by,—
They are the sighing of her heart,
And never shall from mine depart!
THE FOX
FOLK SONG
The fox ran up into the mill,
He raised his paws, and danced his fill.
Brave Master Fox, ’tis but your due,
In all the world there’s none like you!
A peck of corn he ground that day,
Which on his back he bore away.
He ate the village chickens brown,
And trod the upland cornfields down.
The fox lies on his shaggy side,
His paws stretched out before him wide.
Sable and fox this fall we’ll catch,
And for my son I’ll make a match.
Alas, this year no price they made:—
My Hovhannes unmarried stayed!
The Vision of Rosiphelee, Princess of Armenia
From Gower’s “Confesio Amantis.”
The Vision of Rosiphelee, Princess of Armenia
“Sche syh comende vnder þe linde
A womman vp an hors behinde.
The hors on which sche rod was blak,
Al lene and galled on þe back.”
John Gower.