THE SONG OF THE VULTURE
By ELIA DEMIRJIBASHIAN
(1851–1908)
A great black bird like to a great black cloud
Hovers forever o’er my spirit bowed.
He is my guardian angel, but alack!
Darker than night he is—than hell more black.
A fearful-looking bird, with wings wide spread,
Ill-omened as the Devil, and as dread;
He hovers round my wasted body, till
I wonder if I yet have life or will.
Upon his wings no spot of white appears,
His plumage black sheds horror down, and fears.
Black are his talons—sharp, like daggers fell;
And like a hound I hear him howl and yell.
His wide-spread pinions hide the light from me;
Heaven dark, and earth a dungeon black I see.
All is in shadow—air and earth and skies—
He even hides the lightning from my eyes.
I cannot see the paleness of my face,
I cannot see the maiden’s smiling grace;
Black is the lake, the stars and lilies dark;
What was that cry? The bird’s dread calling!—Hark!
I seem to totter on the brink of hell
And think the evil fowl my corpse can smell.
I seem to hear the goblins fight with him—
Away with thee!—ours is this booty grim!”
But he is cruel, strong, and merciless—
This great black bird;—he heeds not my distress.
Ten years I’ve lived beneath his deadly wings—
Ten years unceasingly my death-bell rings.
Ten years ago one night it came to pass
On Moda’s rock I sat and dreamed; alas,
My foe came to me—Carnal was his name:
He shouted, “Vain are Life and Love and Fame!”
Youthful I was, and armed with Love and Hope
I struggled. “Oh, my soul, arise and cope
With this thy foe, and vanquish him,” I cried.
But ’twas in vain, as I full soon espied.
My sun and joy since then are on the wane.
My foe cries out, “I, only I, shall reign!
O’er all the universe none rules but me!”—
Then rose a Siren’s voice alluringly....
Nirvana and the flesh held me that hour:
God was asleep—my soul was in their power.
Then on the moon I saw a spot appear;—
It grew, and grew ... my heart turned sick with fear.
I was as dead. The carrion-eating bird
Had left that heavenly corpse—the moon—allured
To earth by me. It sought my bosom where
The image of Christ crucified lay bare.
Beneath those evil wings I hopelessly
Roam over the earth;—my guardian angel he;
No more the cross I wear, nor in my breast
Dwells holy faith; ’tis death: death without rest.
Like to the moon, whether I wax or wane
Still am I lifeless, cursed with this bane.
I give the vulture of my flesh to tear,
And shiver when the name of “love” I hear.
While yet I live he is devouring me:
I cannot bear this pain—Oh, set me free!
I am not dead—Love still dwells with me here.
I am alive—and some call me the “Ner.”[1]
Ah, gruesome bird, art thou not yet content
These ten long years my body to have rent?
Ah, vulture black—black earth and ebon sky,
’Tis time that I should lay me down and die.
[1] “Ner”—the Antichrist, concerning whom the Armenians have many traditions. [↑]
DANCE SONG[1]
FOLK SONG
“I have loved your winsome face,
And your never-fading grace.
If they give you not to me
May God send them black disgrace!”
“Mountain sorrel, fresh with dew,
Sweets I send and honey new;
Is a dainty maid like me
Fit to wed a youth like you?”
“You are arch, my little maid,
In four plaits your hair you braid,
Make no more pretence to me—
For you love me, I’m afraid!”
“Drive your plough ahead, and go;
Underneath it thistles grow.
You are reckless, young, and wild—
She is mad would wed you so!”
“Near your house a field I’ll sow
And I’ll stone the ill-starred crow.
When I have the girl I love
I’ll let all my folly go.”
“On its way the water flows,
Washing with its waves the rose.
My beloved amidst the youths,
Like a mighty fortress shows.”
“In the vineyard you have grown,
Where the melon plants are sown,
Day and night upon my lute,
You I sing, and you alone.”
“Sing a minstrel’s song to me,
Or the blackbird’s rhapsody;
All your praises I deserve,
And my bridegroom you shall be!”
The Lady and the Minstrel
“The minstrel’s love stole out unseen,
With burning thoughts of her belov’d;
All through the woods so dark and green,
Seeking, and seeking him, she roved.”
Raffi.