Handzin Gurgen Maharu (1903-1969) in other times, our literature would have had an outstanding lover. And even though it is difficult for this people and its thousand-year-old literature to search for and especially to find other times, since from the centuries of Khorenatsi until today, this people has lived only in the times of the struggle for existence, but Mahari was able to, as if that was the way it should be, as if life is all there is, ignoring many and many things from his people and his life, he opened a space for the golden-curled poet inside. So let's call that Mozart in all of us a golden-curled poet, or a strumpet with a naked flute in his hand, or a prodigal son, or find another name for that youth who keeps himself away from the worries of the house like a sacrificial bear from the yoke, flees in terror from the misery of the peasant's house and sometimes, as a testimony of his heavenly calling and as if in defiance of the poor state of the peasant's house, clean of the horn A quiet, carefree melody rises over the miserable condition of the peasant's house and seems to defy it. Such was Mahari, such was Mahari always and everywhere, so much so that one of his peers, who had the right to do so, gave him a severe remark like a light reprimand; "Isn't your style too happy for the material you've chosen?" And the "chosen material" was the hard life of him and his homeland, our genocide. Yes, a hard life was imposed on him, perhaps the hardest life lived under this sky. Genocide - the killing of everyone and everything, in the context of which the hair-raising migration and the eternal loss of the homeland were luck, the thirty-three-year-old poet's seventeen years of silent prison and exile, and in this case luck was already the exile, which he could even talk about with a smile, this 10-15 years of fast and hard work between two enemies, one of them approaching the tyrant from the other side. one was the sound of scurrying footsteps and the other was the venomous snort of a buck. He was bound to be the chronicler of his cruel time, and he was. For a man of his temperament it was true heroism. The time of the genocide and the cannibals of the dictatorship is deeply marked in Armenian literature by his pen, by the pen of a man who was born for a different time and a different life: "Childhood, Youth and Youth Semi", "Burning Gardens", "Charents", "Flowered Barbed Wire" and a series of novels-stories that we call "Siberian".