- Armenian Literature, History, Religion in in Russian

Alice Stone Blackwell


Contents | Table of contents [as in the book] | Preface | Introduction

Bedros Tourian | Michael Nalbandian | Abp. Khorène Nar Bey De Lusignan
Mugurditch Beshiktashlian | Raphael Patkanian | Leo Alishan | St. Gregory of Narek
Nerses the Graceful | Saïat Nova | Djivan | Raffi | Koutcharian | Terzyan | Totochian
Damadian | Atom Yarjanian (Siamanto) | Daniel Varoujan | Archag Tchobanian
Hovhannes Toumanian | Hovhannes Hovhannessian | Zabel Assatour (Madame Sybil)
Mugurditch Chrimian Hairig | M. Portoukalian | Mihran Damadian
Arshag D. Mahdesian | Nahabed Koutchak | Shoushanig Khourghinian
Avedik Issahakian | Avedis Aharonian | Karekin Servantzdiantz | Bedros Adamian
Tigrane Yergate | Khorène M. Antreassian | Djivan | Miscellaneous songs and poems

APPENDIX: The Armenian Women | The Armenian Church
Bibliography | Comments on the first edition of "Armenian Poems"

AVEDIS AHARONIAN, born at Igtir, Erivan, in 1866, has written novels, short stories, literary criticisms, dramas and poems. At the time of Abdul Hamid’s massacres, he was living near the frontier between Turkey and Russia, and he saw the sufferings of the refugees, and took part in the relief work. His graphic tales, called out by these events, made a deep impression. While in the Caucasus a few years ago, he was imprisoned by the Russian government as a political offender, and he came out with broken health. His writings are highly esteemed.


OH, sleep, my little one; oh, sleep once more!
Thou need’st not weep, for I have wept full sore.

The blind wild geese flew, screaming mournfully,
Across our heavens black, o’er vale and hill.
Blinded they were among our mountains high!
Thou need’st not weep, for I have wept my fill.

The gale is moaning in the forests dark;
’Tis the lament of homeless corpses chill.
Ah, many and many a corpse unburied lies!
Thou need’st not weep, for I have wept my fill.

Laden with tears, the caravan passed by,
Knelt in the forest black, and stays there still.
It was our land’s calamities and woes!
Thou need’st not weep, for I have wept my fill.

Beads have I strung and on thy cradle bound,
To guard thee from the foeman’s evil eye.
Oh, sleep and grow, my little one, make haste!
Thou need’st not weep; my tears were seldom dry.

My milk has frozen on thy pallid lips;
’Tis bitter, and thou dost not want it more;
With it is mixed the poison of my grief.
Thou need’st not weep, for I have wept full sore.

Oh, with my milk drink in my black grief too!
Let it black vengeance in thy soul instill!
Shoot up, my darling, grow to stature tall!
Thou need’st not weep, for I have wept my fill.


See also:

Russian poetry translated by Alice Stone Blackwell


Source: Blackwell, Alice Stone. Armenian Poems, Rendered into English Verse. Boston, MA: Atlantic Printing Company, 1917
Provided by: Aram Arkun, Krikor and Clara Zohrab Information Center
Scanned by: Karen Vrtanesyan
OCR: Karen Vrtanesyan

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