Armenian Literature: Comprising Poetry, Drama, Folk-lore and Classic Traditions;: Translated into English for the First Time — John Shaqi
Armenian Literature: Comprising Poetry, Drama, Folk-lore and Classic Traditions;: Translated into English for the First Time
General
Armenian Literature: Comprising Poetry, Drama, Folk-lore and Classic Traditions;: Translated into English for the First Time
Armenian literature; Armenian literature -- Translations into English
"My spirits fell when I saw this, for my heart told me that it meant
something bad was coming. 'Keep away, evil; come, good,' I whispered,
and crossed myself in silence. I glanced at Takusch and saw that the
poor child had changed color. Then her innocent soul also felt that
something evil was near! Sarkis and Mairam, however, remained in merry
mood and thought of nothing of that sort. But if you believe not a
thousand times that something is to come, it comes just the same!
Mairam took her napkin and wiped off her dress and Takusch poured her a
fresh cup. 'There will come a guest with a sweet tongue,' said Sarkis,
smiling. 'Mairam, go and put another dress on. You will certainly be
ashamed if anyone comes.'
"'Who can come to-day, so late?' said Mairam, smiling; 'and, beside, the
dress will dry quickly.'
"Scarcely had she spoken when the garden door opened with a rush and a
gentleman entered the enclosure. He had hardly stepped into the garden
when he began to blab with his goat's voice like a windmill.
"'Good-evening. How are you? You are drinking tea? That is very fine for
you. What magnificent air you have here! Good-evening, Mr. Sarkis.
Good-evening, Mrs. Mairam, Good-evening, Hripsime. What are you doing? I
like to drink tea in the open air. What a beautiful garden you have.
Dare I taste these cherries? Well--they are not bad; no, indeed, they
are splendid cherries. If you will give me a napkin full of these
cherries I will carry them home to my wife. And what magnificent
apricots! Mr. Sarkis, do you know what! Sell me your house. No, I will
say something better to you. Come to my store--you know where it
is--yonder in the new two-storied house. Yes, yes, come over there and
we will sit down pleasantly by the desk and gossip about Moscow
happenings.'
"We were as if turned to stone. There are in the world many kinds of
madmen, chatterboxes, and braggarts, but such a creature as this I saw
for the first time in my life, and do you know who it was? Hemorrhoid
Jack.
"Have you heard of him? Have you seen this hostage of God? Hripsime
asked.
"No, I do not know him," I said.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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