Thou Art So Sweet

Armenian Legends and Poems [1916] at sacred-texts.com

p. 110

THOU ART SO SWEET

BY SAYAT NOVA

THOU art so sweet thou wilt not pain the minstrel singing songs to thee,
But when he loves thee thou dost frown--in vain he tells his wrongs to thee.

Love's fire is such, ’twill not consume--’twill burn, and burn, and ever burn:
If in that sea of flame I fall to cool me thou wilt never turn.

Alas, how shall the minstrel bear thy lightning gleams that pierce his heart?
No pact or treaty wilt thou make--a monarch absolute thou art.

If thou dost meet with mountains high like wax thou meltest them away;
If cities fair lie on thy path, their pride in ruins thou dost lay.

In sooth, no compact wilt thou make with him who sings these strains to thee:
Sayat Nova no credit hath when he would tell his pains to thee.