Original subtitles

This film does not attempt to tell the life story of a poet.

Rather, the film-maker has tried to recreate the poet's inner world

through the trepidations of his soul, his passion and torments,

widely utilizing the symbolism and allegories

specific to the tradition of Medieval Armenian poet troubadours (Ashough).

THE COLOUR OF POMEGRANATES

I am the man whose life and soul are torture.

Poet's childhood

Many have come ahead of me, and vaguely known this amazing world,

they have extinguished and expired ahead of me.

Books must be well kept and read,

for books are Soul and Life.

Without books, the world would have witnessed nothing but ignorance.

You should read aloud for the people to hear, in benefit of their souls...

since many are unable to read what is written.

From the colours and aromas of this world,

my childhood made a poet's lyre and offered it to me.

Saint George, we implore you, let your good fortune, your kind thoughts...

spread over our family, on our people, along with your white horse...

be a stronghold for our people, give prosperity to this family.

Give them good thoughts and prosperity.

Poet's youth

We were searching for ourselves in each other.

The river has overflown its banks.

Poet at the court

A prayer before hunting.

We were searching for a place of refuge for our love,

but instead, the road led us to the land of the dead.

You abandoned us and went away, but we the living wrapped you...

in a cocoon, so in your new world you would burst out like a butterfly.

How am I to protect my wax built castles of love...

from the devouring heat of your fires?

You are fire. Your dress is fire...

You are fire. Your dress is black...

Which of these two fires can I endure?

I am a nightingale trapped in a foreign land, and you are my golden cage.

Poet leaves for the monastery.

The wedding merriment, the sadness, the festive singing are all here.

And they shall never leave this place, if we respect the path of spirit.

What is your name? What is your name?

Aroutin.

Beautiful one, come quickly, quickly come, or beautiful one,

Come on, beautiful one, come you, beautiful one...

Kotcha...

Hey, Kotcha...

Godfather! What is your Ward's name?

Aroutin.

Aroutin...

Matakh (an offering)

We have slain the sacrificial lamb, boiled the meat...

and distributed it in seven plates.

Come hither, come...

Come hither, come...

Catholicos' death

Brothers of mine in soul and blood,

Heaven has sent upon us to this world, grief... grief... grief...

Brothers of mine in soul and blood,

grief, inconsolable grief has been sent to us from Heaven today.

On this night of revelations at Etchmiadzin,

died our Saint Father Lazarus, Catholicos of all Armenians...

Brothers of mine in soul and blood,

Heaven has sent upon us to this world, grief... grief... grief...

Brothers of mine in soul and blood,

grief has been sent to us from Heaven, grief... grief... grief...

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

Grief is sent to us from heaven today at Etchmiadzin;

During this night of the revelation of Saint Sarkis,

our Holy Father Lazarus, Catholicos of all Armenians, has died.

"God, our Saviour...

like an everlasting flower unsoiled...

give your good word for us...

and bless the good immaculate ones.

Blessed be our Lord Jesus Christ.

"Our Father, who an in Heaven...

Poet's dream

(He returns to his childhood and mourns for his parents)

You are fire, you're dressed in black...

You are fire, you're dressed in black...

You are fire, you're dressed in black...

Poet's old age

(Poet leaves the monastery)

I am wandering, burned and wounded, and I cannot find a shelter...

As long as I live, my life is all yours, my love...

My life is all yours, how can I help it, my love...

How can I help it...

Go amongst the people and may we always hear of your triumphs,

your kind deeds, and your well-being.

You are the salt of the earth.

And may God of speech be always with you.

Go amongst the people.

I hear calls of homecoming and hope, but I am weary.

Who has spread all this sorrow upon this old and weary earth?

Meeting the Angel of Death

(Poet buries his Love)

Poet's death

Sing!

In this world...

Sing!

In this world...

Die!

A poet may die, but not his muse.

Whether I live or die, my chanting shall wake up the crowd.

And nothing may vanish from this world on the day of my final departure.

Directed by Sergei Paradjanov

Director of photography: Suren Shakhbazian

Music by Tigran Mansurian

Starring:

Young Poet - Poet's Love - The Nun with white lace - The Angel of Resurrection - pantomime

Sofiko Chiaureli

Poet as a child: M. Alekian

Poet in the monastery: V. Galstian

Poet as an old man: G. Gegechkori

Prince: O. Minasian