Original subtitles

The Hamo Bek-Nazaryan "Armenfilm" Film Studio

Dear viewer,

Don't seek in this film the biography of Sayat-Nova,

the great Armenian poet of the 18th century.

We were only striving to convey, by means of cinema, the pictorial world of that poetry

about which the Russian poet Valery Briusov wrote:

"Medieval Armenian poetry is still one of the most remarkable victories

"of the human spirit known in the history of the entire world."

I am he whose life and soul are torment...

Chapter One: The Poet's Childhood

"There are three sacred goals:

"Cherish the pen, cherish writing,

"cherish books." - Sayat-Nova

A book must be cherished and read, for a book is both life and soul.

If there were no written word, the ignorant would rule the world.

Read a book loudly for all to hear,

for not everyone can read.

Since childhood you've heard the voice of praise,

but I rejoice to praise beauty.

St George, we implore you,

let your good fortune, your kind thoughts

spread to our family, on your people

and, along with your white horse,

be a stronghold for our people,

and give this family good thoughts and prosperity.

Chapter Two: The Poet's Youth

Your cheeks are scarlet roses, you are the delightful image of Paradise!

I entreat you, as I might the Shah; you fall silent, you don't respond.

My suffering has gone beyond measure...

Chapter Three:

The Poet at the Prince's Court.

Prayer Before the Hunt.

Thou art a vineyard, newly in bloom-..

Tender, beautiful, planted in Eden...

And Thou art Thyself the brilliant sun...

Darkness lies ahead in thought, my song alone remains with me,

For me, no hope is left in life, my grave awaits me before long.

You deserted us and retreated,

but we, the living, spun a cocoon around you,

so that you may emerge as a butterfly in your new life.

[Armenian] You deserted us and retreated...

Words are powerless before you!

How can I describe your crimson features?

You're fire...

You're clothed in..

You're fire...

You're clothed in...

...fire.

You're fire, you're clothed in fire.

You're fire, you're clothed in black.

You're clothed in black.

Which of these fires can I endure?

I am a nightingale in a foreign land, and my golden cage is you!

Chapter Four: The Poet Enters the Monastery

Now the joy of nuptials, now grief, now feasting and rejoicing...

If you create guided by the spirit, there can be no decay.

What is his name?

Arutin!

Lord, have mercy.

Remember, Lord, and have mercy.

O Christ, Son of God, good and forgiving,

in Your love, have mercy on Your servant's soul,

the late Harutyun, who has joined You.

Remember him on the day of Your Advent,

grant him the remission of his sins...

Come on, Jamal, faster!

He put Eve's hand into Adam's, and Adam said,

"She is the bone of my bones, flesh of my flesh,

"Woman, taken out of man.

"A man leaves his parents and cleaves unto his wife,

"and their souls will be one flesh forever."

Godfather, what is your Ward's name?

Arutin.

The child Harutyun has come to be baptised.

Do it in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

By the grace of the blood of Christ,

welcome him in the Father's Kingdom of Heaven.

Let him be the heir to Christ

and the temple of the living God.

Matagh - Sacrifice

We have slain the sacrificial ram, boiled the meat,

and distributed at seven places.

Come hither, come!

The Death of the Catholicos

Brothers of mine in soul and blood,

Heaven has sent upon us grief.

Brothers of mine in soul and blood, grief

has been sent upon us from heaven today.

During this night of the revelation of Saint Sarkis at Echmiadzin,

our Holy Father Lazarus has died.

The Catholicos of All Armenians, the greatest of men and prelates.

Brothers of mine in soul and blood, grief...

has Heaven sent upon us...

Brothers of mine in soul and blood,

Heaven has sent upon us grief...

God, our Saviour...

...like an everlasting flower unsoiled...

...give your good word for us...

...and bless the good, immaculate ones.

Blessed be the Lord Jesus Christ...

...whose life and body are immaculate.

Our Father, Who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name.

Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done...

Chapter Five: The Poet's Dream

He returns to his childhood

and mourns the death of his parents.

You're fire, you're clothed in black...

...l love your footsteps.

Your mind delights me.

Beloved quail, wounded quail...

...high is our gallantry.

Persian soldiers are lying everywhere...

...wounded quail,

Dark quail, my dear quail.

Walk, walk, I love your footsteps...

...Let the scarlet blood flow,

In the meadow the flowers redden.

The moon breaks through the clouds...

Chapter Six: The Poet's Old Age

The Poet leaves the Monastery

Scorched and wounded do I roam, no kindred haven can I find...

As long as I draw breath, my dear...

I am a sacrifice to you.

But what shall I do?

Go...

Go amongst the people, go!

And may we yet hear of your triumphs.

You are the salt of the earth.

May the God of speech be always with you.

Go amongst the people, go!

Tears dimmed my eyes, I was delirious.

May my enemies befall such woe!

Chapter Seven: Meeting the Angel of Death

The Poet Buries his Love

The world is a window...

I'm weary of arches.

He who looks through it gets burnt.

I'm weary of wounds.

Yesterday was better than today...

I'm weary of tomorrows.

People can't always be even...

I'm weary of playing games.

Yesterday was better than today...

I'm weary of tomorrows.

People can't always be even...

I'm weary of playing games.

Sayat-Nova has said:

My suffering has gone beyond measure...

has gone beyond measure...

The world is a window...

Chapter Eight: The Poet's Death

Sing.

In this world...

In this world...

Die.

The Poet dies, but his Muse is immortal.

"Whether I'm living or dead, my song will awaken the crowd.

"I'll depart, but from that day a piece of me will stay in the world."