Dialect Audio Library: Musa Dagh (Part A)

Lürroun mə dækin qæræchaim gu ənnir. Gourtir, gourtir, puntzər khughæim arrchiv  geukir, u gu ənnir ərgə pizhen. məe khughen arrchə tiein, migalnæ suluq tiein gu ichnir urtir. Yeipər puntzər khughen nərkə chæəng gu hæsnæirən, gukərgədveirən gukhærrəngvæirən u meim ighudz, dzərrrrədilu geu ughæirən u gourtæirən ta djüt chuntsugh hürrrrə dzeuv.

At the foot of a mountain, a river flowed by. It went on and on until it reached a high mound of soil, where it divided into two portions: one flowed to the right of the high mound, and the other to the left, both continuing on. When they reached the far corner of the high ground, they embraced, mixed, and merging as one continued, wending their way toward the distant endless sea.

Ad puntzər khughen irvan gu æbræirən khilək dəlkæim u chur eutz mə. Eutz təz bæreun mər, ichven mæüt ər, sürdn æ bəghdür.

On that high ground lived a good and clever fox and a wicked snake. The snake resembled a rope, with dark eyes and a murky heart.

Dəlken u eutz məgəzməg qədun, irgæənk kidæənk irints ighu. ighun ingir, aghpar kimə.

Urir antsun u dærvəna, u mgəzməg chə nighætsutsen. Arrunts migen, migual chəkir, "æsten æri, ænten kənu" æsugh chəkir. Vakhət igək, ki pærə u khilək dəlken peür qərq ərrits, kæghtsutæin shædtsu. mətnits chakhran, heük pərrnoütsdzə. mədməduts irgan-pærəg ki chո՛ւts gurnu kæghtsuteun chara qənna. Əlu kənütsə utzen khuach. Khilək zərətsnu hæsgətseuts utzen zer sərden heük.

The fox and the snake found each other, and it was as if heaven and earth were theirs. They became friends, like brothers.

Days passed—and years—and they never caused each other distress. One was never without the other; neither ever said "come over here" or "go over there." Then a time came when the good fox's began to rumble and its hunger grew; its face grew dim, worry took a hold over it, and it thought long and hard about how to find a remedy for its hunger. It got up and went to the snake. With wise words it explained to the snake what was burdening its heart:

– As kheügh, mir dzənnudz deigh, mir æbrudz deigh, shüd gu sirənk. təz djannat deigh mi as deigh. əmmə che feda, yeipər mæqə quzaim chəkeuv i, yeipər khurəzə ya varrigə tzan chu ənnei, na tzækə tiv gu ərvənu, nadæchəren izzeir kürd gu hivu.

Ægær ænhük-ænhük tə gə nəsdænk təz shashqənna, sounğ-sounğ kæghtsətniris bər sæggænk mənk. Mədmədætsudz u zcharan æ qədoudz əm is. mənk bər sibənk əzmir dzənnudz u æbrudz deigh, bər asnank chəren migal izzeir. yan deigh hæm mækæk gun, hæmdæ idzdzir, hæm hævir gun, hæm gækuvna. Mir arasen shüd dærvənə ugh u huts gu, nəsdil-gannil u dusdləq gu. harum chənnur zas alayr peun tə gə marrnənk? Mənk barabur bər asnank yæn ten. ingərutu æbritsənk, ingərutu yæ bər guchənk.

"This land, our birthplace, where we live—we love it dearly, it is like paradise. But what good is it when there's not one lamb here, no sound of rooster or pullet, no sight of a bird’s wing, nor the croaking of frogs at water's edge?

If we lie around, without care, like fools, in the end we will die of hunger. I have pondered and found a remedy: We will leave the place where we were born  and where we have lived, and we will cross to the other side of the water. There are sheep there, and also goats, chickens, and partridges. There are, between us, many years of salt and bread, of sitting down and getting up together, of companionship. Wouldn't it be a sin to forget all that? We must cross to the other side together. We have lived as friends, and as friends we must migrate from here."

– Shüd-shüd ügheürt i ætseudzəd, æsuts eutz kughtsər tzinu, əmmə yeu küpra gu, yeu tsantsourr digh, ki bər gærənk hængeüsd asne?

"Very, very true," said the snake with a sweet voice, "but where is there a bridge, or a shallow place, for us to be able to cross easily?"

– Küpra chəku, nadæ tsantsourr digh, əmmə səhæət mə chantsudz, yæn ten gənnənk.

"There is no bridge, nor shallow passage, but in less than an hour we will be across."

Əlun katsen chəren izzeir. Dəlken æsuts.– Ələ meishkəs. Eutz ilu yə dəlken meishk, pælvitsuə væiz, kəleukhn æ kəkhlen iter. Dəlken hidzdzu bæghag chəren, idur-ipir əzvədven u təz qaz sifitsu kənüts. yeipər hæssun chərenə geis, eutz kəbtsits əzdəlken væiz. khæværitsun dəlken ichven.

They went to the water's edge. The fox said, “Climb onto my back." The snake climbed onto the fox's back, coiled itself around the fox's neck, and rested its head on top of the fox's head. The fox climbed into the chilly water, moved his feet to and fro, and like a swan glided along. When they got midway across the water, the snake squeezed the fox's neck. The fox's eyes darkened:

– He՜y, chau shinis, marrtsur zheum ugh u hatsen?

"Hey, what are you doing? Have you forgotten the taste of the salt and bread?"

– Sərdes əztzuan gu ləssim hæmu.

"I now hear the voice of my heart."

– Əs bæz khəghtem, teun che gənnus, gu mədmədus?

"If I suffocate, have you thought what would happen to you?" 

– Chæir bər ənnu təgh ənnu, is əzki bər khəttim hæmu.

"What will be, will be; I am going to strangle you now."

Dəlkigeun soürd vækhin tughuts. u mæik æsuts. "Chæghvüren heid chæghvür ighe."

The fox's heart pulsed with fear, and it thought, "Be wicked to the wicked."

– Yeipər qarar tərir bər khəghtis zes, pi zkəlæukhəd kəntesə teim, təz ingir bækneimdzə sunğə aghəz mə, u hængesd sərdu yæ mürrnem.

"Since you've decided to strangle me, bring your head around to my snout, let me kiss it as a friend one last time—and die with my heart at ease."

Eutz chur-chur dzidzæghilu, gækhits əzkəlæukh kəntenə teim. Dəlken, bæknilə digh, khædzdzits əzkəlæukh utzen, qərtits u cheür isgeitsdzə. Eutz tultsu, tishmits. Dəlken lan næfæəs mə irur. Zichven lan-lan iputs. ækhsheur təz mighər kaghtsərtsu er, tə kidis yer mour ərmein nür dzənnits. yeipər hæssu chəren izzeir, ilu chərin, tətvits əzmeishk. Eutz kægvitsu, ingu kidæin. Dəlken ishits, ishits u kənüts keur mə ipir, iter qədrudz kəlkhen ten, sunğra khædzdzits zæken u kishits-kishits ughərtoütsdzə u asuts.

The snake, with a treacherous grin dangled its head in front of the fox's snout. Instead of a kiss, the fox bit the snake's head, severed it, and dropped it into the water. The snake went slack and wilted. The fox took a long breath. It opened its eyes wide, the world seemed sweet as honey; it was as if it had just been given birth by its mother. When it reached the water's edge (shore), it climbed out of the water, shook its back. The snake uncoiled and fell onto the ground. The fox looked [at it], and looked again; it went and brought a stone and placed it at the end where the head had been severed; it then bit the tail and pulled and pulled until it [the snake's body] was laid out straight, and the fox said:

– Əngeir bər ənnu təz gængeun. üghürt, üghürt, təz gængeun.

"A friend should be like a measuring rod; straight and true, like a measuring rod."