The poet of the people nowhere occupies himself with casting about for a fine subject; he writes of what he feels and of what he sees. The Armenian peasant sees the snow in winter; in summer he sees the flowers and the birds--only birds and flowers are to him the pleasanter sight, so he sings more about them. He rarely composes any verse without a flower or a bird being mentioned in it; all his similes are ornithological or botanical, and by them he expresses the tenderest emotions of his heart. There is a pathos, a simplicity really exquisite in the conception of some of these little bird-and-flower pieces, as, for example, in the subjoined "Lament of a Mother" over her dead babe: I gaze and weep, mother of my boy, I say alas and woe is me wretched! What will become of wretched me, I have seen my golden son dead! They seized that fragrant rose Of my breast, and my soul fainted away; They let my beautiful golden dove Fly away, and my heart was wounded. That falcon Death seized My dear and sweet-voiced turtle dove and wounded me. They took my sweet-toned little lark And flew away through the skies! Before my eyes they sent the hail On my flowering green pomegranate, My rosy apple on the tree, Which gave fragrance among the leaves. They shook my flourishing beautiful almond tree, And left me without fruit; Beating it they threw it on the ground And trod it under foot into the earth of the grave. What will become of wretched me! Many sorrows surrounded me. O, my God, receive the soul of my little one And place him at rest in the bright heaven! The birds of Armenia are countless in their number and variety, from vulture to wren; there are so many of them that a man (it is said poetically) may ride for miles and miles and never see the ground, which they entirely cover, except over the small space from which they fly up with a deafening whizz to make a passage for his horse. At times the plains have the appearance of being dyed rose-colour through the swarms of the gorgeous red goose which congregate upon them, whilst here and there a whitish spot is formed by a troop of his grey-coated relatives. It seems that the Armenian has found out why it was the wild goose and the tame one separated from each other. Once upon a time, when all were wild and free, one goose said to another on the eve of a journey, "Mind you are ready, my friend, for, Inshallah (please God), I set out to-morrow morning." "And so will I," he profanely replied, "whether it pleases God or not." Sure enough next morning both geese were up betimes, and the religious one spread out his wings and sailed off lightly towards the distant land. But, lo! when the impious goose tried to do likewise, he flapped and flapped and could not stir from the ground. So a countryman caught him, and he and his children for ever fell into slavery.