the Armenians
Bryusov VJ
Yes, you are placed on the verge
Two different worlds, arguing,
And in the depths of native traditions
You can hear echoes of the centuries.
All of the storm, all the excitement of the world,
Whenever you fly, you touched the wing -
And the dull thunder of Cyrus' campaigns
And Alexandra abusive thunder.
You nizili in the confusion of the camp,
When Carrhae Roman icons;
You are the sword of Justinian
Great to battle their shelves;
Often, you tended to storms
As vortices - a gentle color of spring:
When Genghis Khan, Lengtimure,
In gloomy triumph of the moon.
However, the warrior stable, under the gun
Your spirit did not yield to fate;
Two of the world around him without reason
Boiled and mixed in the fight.
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he is cut like a firmament of diamond
In all his reflections of the store:
And paint delicate roses of Shiraz,
And the brilliance of Homer fire.
And survived the edge of your Nairsky
In the fall of kingdoms, between the agony of land:
You are behind the fence monastic
His holiness preserved.
There, frankly hiding deep
Tille sorrowful dream
The idea of the West and the idea of the East,
Aguramazdy and Christ -
And the key of divine delights,
Imperishable changes in years:
On the bright flame of Hellas
Grilled - your songs are light.
And now, in this new world,
In the crowd, restless tribes
You stood - stark appearance
For us, the mysterious times.
But what has been, always lively,
In the Past - a reward and a lesson.
Wear you may proudly
Its centuries-old crown.
And we, the great legacy
Amazed, vows to hear it.
Yes! Past heavy copper
Buzzing over each new day.
And believe people Tigranes
What a storm again overcome,
Star of you come out of the fog,
For new feats matured;
What is your new living lyre,
Above the stone decayed boards
Two strangers, two hostile world
In the melody; higher sedinit!
January 23, 1916, Tiflis