PROUD WE ARE

Translated from Armenian by Daniel Janoyan
Glendale, July 17, 1997
 
We never want to bend our heads
To merciless enemies of ours.
We want to defend our pride
And to the devil never be an easy prey.

We are as proud and big hearted
As the high summits of our mountains are;
We don’t believe in promises
Made by dishonest and rustic nations.

We are the children of a heroic nation
That has emerged triumphantly
Through centuries-old dark depths
Daring and bold as a lion is.

With a metallic will and a brave spirit
Like a lion and without fear
We’ve come forward for a battle fierce
So that our enemy may freeze and give in to us.

We are the children of a heroic nation
Who through centuries-old struggle
Has always marched on with triumph
And with bravery and also spirits very high




IF YOU BECOME ….

Translated from Armenian by Daniel Janoyan
Glendale, July 17, 1997

If you become a sportsman
Flexible, smart and skillful,
Do become to your people supportive
And to your nation also helpful.

If you become very rich,
Owning countless precious items,
Don’t look at people from high above,
But be humble and very just.

If you become a scientist
Well alive with abundant supply
See that your nation gets its fair share
Of those spiritual talents of yours.

If you become an army general,
And also very triumphant
As a clever soldier
Never forget your dues to your nation.

If you become a private soldier
In strange lands never dwell.
You need to be active all the time
Serving your fatherland at all times.

O dear fellow Armenian
From now on at least
You should be serving your FATHERLAND
With all your might and endlessly.



TO BE GREAT

Translated from Armenian by Daniel Janoyan
Nicosia, Cyprus — January 23, 1983

"Wander around the world, my lad
And win for yourself a great name of pride."

So the lad went on and great efforts he made,
Great wealth and great treasures he made.
Then he returned to his father and with pride he said,
"Father, don’t you think I am now great?"

"No, never! Though you are a budget’s ornament,
I can’t yet call you a great man, my lad."

So the lad went to the temple of the wise.
He became clever, a man of science and talent,
And then returned to his father and with pride he said,
"Father, don’t you think I am now great?"

"No, never! Though you have become a science ornament,
I can’t yet call you a great man, my lad."

So with preservations and prayers, the lad went into a desert.
He put on a hair-cover and did some miracles.
Then, he returned to his father and with pride he said,
"Father, don’t you think I am now great?"

"If to Adam’s paradise you become an ornament,
Still, I will not call you a great man, my lad."

So the lad went on and became a captain,
And with brains and bravery he ruled many lands.
Then he returned to his father and with pride he said,
"Father, don’t you think I am now great?"

"No, never! Though you are an ornament to the blind world,
Still, I can’t call you a great man, my lad."

So, the lad went to foreign countries,
And he cleaned the world from monsters and pains.
Then he returned to his father and with pride he said,
"Father, don’t you think I am now great?"

"Though in foreign countries you became an ornament,
Still, I will not call you a great man, my lad."

So the boy went prone and dreary,
With a heart full of pain and misery.
The poor boy was worn out exerting his brains,
Still, he was not worthy of his father’s praise.

A brother of his was taken a slave,
And his home was destroyed by enemies and foes.
He made all efforts putting himself at mess,
Till he freed his brother and rebuilt his home.

Mountains and valleys all on a sudden,
With the seas, they began to roar,
"Now only have you gained a great name, my lad,
Since you remembered your brother and forgot your own self."


TO MY MOTHER

Translated from Armenian by Daniel Janoyan
Los Angeles, November 20, 1991

During the nights when I am sleeping,
Who, when awake, keeps an eye on me?
When I wake up, who smiles at me?
Sweet mother, it’s you, it’s you indeed.

Who ever would give her hear to me,
Every care, pain and suffering,
Who is the one that takes them for me?
Sweet mother, it’s you, it’s you indeed
.
Who has a heart beneath her breast,
Full of love and lots of feeling?
Who is our homes sweet angel?
Sweet mother, it’s you, it’s you indeed.

One day, mother, when you get old,
Who will always take care of you,
Who will always keep loving you?
Sweet mother, that will be I, I will indeed.




THE BALANCE

Translated from Armenian by Daniel Janoyan
Los Angeles, November 20, 1991

When within the mind’s cradle
I was brought up into this world,
A complete world of worlds, I found
My mother’s tender love, I found.
To measure my mother’s sacred love,
I had my brows as my lever of the balance scale,
And my eyes as the two-side trays.
And believe it or not, my mother’s love was so great,
Tender and also deep,
That when I put the Himalayas on one side of the scale,
Up jumped the mountain along with the cross bar.
I then tried all the seas and they too sprang up,
While my mother’s sacred love pulled down
All mountains, seas and also the galaxy.Your adorable love this time
I tried to put on the scale.
And the two sides went up and down
In attempt to keep a balance.At last when I took a handful of earth
From my bountless motherland,
Both scales attracted and hugged each other
In a balancing warm caress.

 
 
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