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Лесть есть род дудки, которой приманивают птиц, подражая их голосу.(Ф. Бэкон)


In the forest

The forest is noisy, it’s moaning,
There’s not a ray of hope in it.
The wind will come suddenly
And all around will start howling.
The forest is noisy, it’s moaning,
It’s roaring infernally.
Are there demons and arziouris
So furiously raging?
The wind grows into the storm,
Everything is being twisted.
The dark forest is howling,
The trees are being bent to the ground.
The endless dark clouds
Are running above the forest.
The lightnings are cutting the ground
Through the thick darkness.
It is thundering, crashing and choking,
The world is hardly alive.
The rain fall is racketing
Through the hollows.

* * *

The thick forest, the thick forest,
Why are you making so much noise?
Why are you frightening the poor soul
By your howling and wild whistling?
The forest starts crying
And howling even more restlessly.
Don’t leave me, for goodness sake!
The last day is approaching!
Oh, where can I only hide?
Oh, my felonious head!
Oh, how can I only get on
With my sinful soul?
Poor Setner with his grief
Is walking in the forest.
The trees in the forest are singing
Their violent song over him!
Here he comes along the path
And he’s walking and singing,
As if trying to drown the storm,
And to suppress his heartache:

* * *

“The thick forest, the thick forest,
Why are you storming so threateningly?
Why are you frightening my poor soul
By your howling, by your wild whistling?
Oh, my sorrow, oh, my sorrow!
Don’t burn my dreams!
Why are you leaving the orphan
Without happiness?
Sure, I was given birth only
For the torments, for sufferings.
Better to die than
To endure all these sufferings.
My life wouldn’t be ruined
If only I were rich.
And even more than that
Human stupidity ruined my life.
And more than human stupidity
There appeared a hateful enemy.
God’s will prevented me
From overcoming the hateful enemy.

* * *

Setner is singing and the storm
Having taken this song,
Crying flies away with howlings
Over the thick forest.
This gloomy song is rather bitter,
It breaks the soul.
The yells and moans fly
Away together with the storm.
And little by little the sounds
Are dying in the forest’s thicket.
These tears are felt
By the other dear soul.
Someone is crying in return
In the thicket, stunning the heartache.
The other soul is suffering
From severe grief.
The fellow hears somebody’s song
And he catches every sound.
He starts singing again
With the storm’s howling.

* * *

“The black forest, the thick forest,
Why are you storming so threateningly
And waking up my deadly dreams
By singing as if my sweetheart?
The black forest, the thick forest,
Don’t cheat the orphan;
Singing like my sweetheart
Don’t lure my soul in vain!
The great forest, the thick forest,
Tell me the truth!
Take pity upon me: show me
My girl-friend alive.
Hark! Somebody is approaching me…
I see the female:
Oh, dear and kind God!
Isn’t it my Narspi..?”

* * *

The ancient oak blessed
The young with a bow.
The wind calmed down
And the dark forest became quiet.
The dark clouds behind the forest
Dispelled in the distance.
The birds sing in their nests.
The bright sun is hot.
The sun pours its warmth generously
Onto the dew on the grass.
The loving couple gets
The bright light from the sun.
The bright day is gleaming and sparkling,
And there is no mention of dreadful days!
The two are walking gaily
And there are no thoughts about the others.
However, in the sinister thicket
One can hear the black bird’s chirp:
Takhtaman’s ghost is wandering
And demanding Narspi’s soul.

Categories: Narspi
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Last edited by: Admin, 2015-11-29 19:12:00. Views 1476.