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
A GOOD comrade, beautiful and virtuous,
Lights man’s face up, like a bright sun-ray.
When a man has with him a true comrade,
Dark night passes like a sunny day.
Sacrifice is nothing; a kind comrade
Is the spirit’s lamp of light and fire.
A good friend, a true, God-fearing comrade,
Leads man ever upward, high and higher.
When our enemies attack us fiercely,
A brave comrade is a sword in fight.
Whoso has a true friend, singer Djivan,
Never shall one hair of his turn white.
DOWN from yon distant mountain
The streamlet finds its way,
And through the quiet village ,
It flows in eddying play.
A dark youth left his doorway,
And sought the water-side,
And, laving there his hands and brow,
“ O streamlet sweet! ” he cried,
“ Say, from what mountain com’st thou ? ”
“From yonder mountain cold
Where snow on snow lies sleeping,
The new snow on the old.”
“ Unto what river, tell me,
Fair streamlet, dost thou flow ? ”
“ I flow unto that river
Where clustering violets grow.”
“ Sweet streamlet to what vineyard,
Say, dost thou take thy way ? ”
“ The vineyard where the vine-dresser
Is at his work to-day.”
“ What plant there wilt thou water ?”
“ The plant upon whose roots
The lambs feed, where the wind-flower blooms,
And orchards bear sweet fruits.”
“What garden wilt thou visit,
O water cool and fleet ? ”
“ The garden where the nightingale
Sings tenderly and sweet.”
“ Into what fountain flow’st thou ? ”
“The fountain to whose brink
Thy love comes down at morn and eve,
And bends her face to drink.”
“ There shall I meet the maiden
Who is to be thy bride,
And kiss her chin, and with her love
My soul be satisfied.”
THE mournful and unhappy days, like winter, come and go.
We should not be discouraged, they will end, they come and go.
Our bitter griefs and sorrows do not tarry with us long;
Like customers arrayed in line, they come, and then they go.
Over the heads of nations persecutions, troubles, woes,
Pass, like the caravan along the road; they come and go.
The world is like a garden, and men are like the flowers;
How many roses, violets and balsams come and go!
Let not the strong then boast themselves, nor let the weak be sad,
For divers persons of all kinds pass on, they come and go.
Fearless and unafraid the sun sends forth his beaming light;
The dark clouds, toward the house of prayer float past they come and go.
Earth to her well-taught son belongs, with motherly caress,
But the unlettered races like nomads come and go.
Djivan, a guest-room is the world, the nations are the guests;
Such is the law of nature; they pass—they come and go.
Blackwell, Alice Stone. Armenian Poems, Rendered into English Verse.
Boston, MA: Atlantic Printing Company, 1917