The Turkish viziers considered the hope of the awakening of Aristotelian Greece to be the delusion of European poets. It was a heavy bet, rebellious poets who did not tolerate slavery, who were looking for the end of their short path, and on the other hand, the murderous logic of the rulers, reached out their hand. Those Greeces, city-states, petty authorities did not perish for resurrection, they died for the good of the peace of the united world and are an inseparable component of the one-wheeled rule once and for all. But Greece woke up and stood up. The Bulgarians threw off their Turk skin and stood as Slavs. The Serbs woke up. The Romanians stood up. Armenia moved.
A certain Mongol now looks with the deep sadness of a deprived person at the boundless distance of his Chingiz Khanian past, which has gone and gone and gone and is gone now. Any Russian now looks with pain of loss to the times when the Transcaucasia was still abroad and the free Cossacks could destroy the merchant Shamakh there and become Tereks wearing many oriental panties. Any American now probably remembers images from the times when the steppes of his country were open, the herds were wild with freedom and so many tribes and peoples had not yet found America.
And for me, my Chingizkhanian peace, my empire, my Petrosvadgian conquests, my Napoleonic theater, my war of the free north against the slave-owning south, do not go beyond a century, because in no other century have we had so many and high people, in no time has our time been so densely populated by the noble sons of my proud race.
From Van to Kari and Polis and Dsegh and Madras and Tiflis and Agulis and Petersburg and Shushi and Etchmiadzin, after a five-hundred-year night, like soldiers of an army scattered in the night, they called each other and found each other. - Cross! - Michael! - John! - Reverend! -Baptist! - Simon! - Rostov! - First time! - So cute! - Murad! -Hamazasp! - Jacob!
This old, tired land was cut by a single Byurak, all the slopes echoed, from all the valleys and ravines, from all the springs and forests, from all the villages and fortresses, from the monasteries and rock quarries, a new life sprang forth, all the mothers gave birth to boys, all the boys were rebellious.
The tribe existed, the tribe testified its immortality among the tribes.
The Kurds of Khasun had told the Kurds. "We are Mamgu himself, and the owner of this country. The Turkish sultan wanted our faith or our weapons, we gave our faith and kept our weapons.
My Mamikonians, my Bagratunis, my Artsrunis came under the Kurdish colossus, were peasants' chukhas, peasants' parajas, were bakers, cartographers, merchants, did carpentry, called their natives in Turkish, Kurdish and sometimes Armenian, were pashas in foreign courts, and only the eagle's crouch gave away that they were themselves.
Among the causes of the Genocide, "Disagreement of the Peoples", the enemy mentions their guilt, as if it were not for them, Anatoly would be clapping now under the applause of the united peoples. The enemy is an enemy precisely because it points to exactly what, if it were not, we would not exist at all. The enemy mentions Andranikians and Andranik, so they are our essence.
About them the Turkish governors bequeathed to each other in writing, for whom they were the permanent rulers and my princes their eternal gyadas; "Our Christian peoples soon recovered from our movement, which forced them into a subordinate position, and appeared ready to stand in the place of their former teachers. In particular, the behavior of the Armenians became tyrannical, but it would be right if we moderated their enthusiasm."
Having said that their attempts to moderate our zeal were in vain, I will address the testament. Our behavior did not take on a domineering character - it was, always was and is.
And I have a big testimony. goals are their gods to their non-trees.
How good it was for us that they were there, what a shame it would have been if they hadn't been there - those carpenters, saddle menders, weapon menders, wretched nobles. "They will not allow the enemy to cross the English Channel," it was said of the English military aristocracy. We had no deep seas, the foot of the enemy defiled our land and destroyed the graves, but my nobles with them kept us away from the enemy's whims as much as perhaps the width of the English Channel. Not from hatred, not from hating us, not from black and black hatred. It means that in a duel, where it was only us and the enemy, they reduced the enemy to the level of animals, and the only witness, us, must be destroyed now, and the enemy is black with hatred until now and until tomorrow.
It is hard to live under that gaze, but it would be excruciatingly impossible to be dragged into his scorn, we would certainly fall confused and would not leave the flattery, because it would also be our flattery for us, without witnesses to those who were humiliated in the duel.
My nobles wiped the red shame from their foreheads and ours. they threw the burden of hostile flattery from their souls and ours, and today our course is light, our front is clear today.
"Literary Newspaper", 02.03.1990