Rus Articles Journal

Shagane you washing, Shagane!

Shaandukht Nersesovna Ambartsumyan (Shagane Talyan) (22. 04. 1900, Akhaltsikhe, Georgia - 1976, Yerevan) the Autobiography
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Was born

in the city of Akhaltsikhe of the Tiflissky province in 1900 on April 22.
my father was a teacher in the beginning, and after death of my grandfather, the priest, became also the priest. The father, Nerses Egiyaevich Ambartsumyan, graduated from seminary in Tiflis. He knew French, German, Latin, but also, Armenian and Russian languages. Being a priest, the father gave private lessons of foreign languages. Died 50 years, of typhus (1919).
Mother, Maria Georgiyevna Karakashyan, was a teacher. Died at the age of 40 years (1911) .
Ya to 3 - go a class studied at Akhaltsikhe at parish school, then at a female gymnasium at station Mikhaylov (Khashuri). Upon termination of a gymnasium in 1919 arrived on frebelevsky courses and in 1920 ended them then at the Armenian schools conducted zero group. In 1921 married the economist Terteryan Stepan Rubenovich, lived in Tiflis. In 1922 the son Ruben was born (nowadays the candidate of medical sciences). Became a widow/widower in 1924 and left in Batum where taught in 4 - 5 - 6 - x classes arithmetics and conducted zero group.
B 1925/26 worked academic year in Sochi at the Armenian school, and in 1926 - 1934 - in 70 - y to school in Tiflis. In 1930 again married the composer Vardges Grigoryevich Talyan, and in 1934 moved to Yerevan where did not work any more.

Shagane Talyan,
1959. February 3. Yerevan“ with


Sergey Yesenin, from the cycle “Persian Motives“

of Shagane you washing, Shagane!
Because I from the North, perhaps, of
Ya am ready to tell you the field,
About wavy rye under the moon.
of Shagane you washing, Shagane. for

Because I from the North, perhaps, of
That the moon is a hundred times huger there, How was beautiful
It is not better than the Ryazan expanses.
Because I from the North, perhaps.

I am ready to tell you the field,
These hair was taken by me from rye,
If is wanted, on a finger knit -
Ya I do not feel pain at all.
Ya is ready to tell you the field.

About wavy rye under the moon
On curls you mine guess.
Darling joke, smile, do not awake with
only memory of
of Missile defense in me wavy rye under the moon.

Shagane you washing, Shagane!
There, in the north, the girl too, it is scary similar
To you,
Perhaps thinks of me...
of Shagane you washing, Shagane.


You told that Saadi
Kissed only on a breast. Wait for
you, for God`s sake, I Will be trained in

You sang: “Beyond Euphrates
of the Rose it is better than mortal maidens“.
If is I rich,
That another put a tune.

I would cut these roses,
one joy to me -
That did not exist
Better than lovely Shagane .

And not much me a precept,
U me there are no precepts.
Kohl was born I the poet,
That I kiss as the poet.

December 19, 1924.


In Horossana there are such doors,
Where is sprinkled with roses a threshold.
Tam lives thoughtful a feather.
In Horossana is such doors,
But I could not open those doors.

I in hands have enough force,
In hair is gold and copper.
Voice feather gentle and beautiful.
U me in hands is enough force, I could not unlock
But doors.

To anything in my love courage.
I what for? to Whom to me to sing songs? -
If became unjealous the Step , Kohl of doors could not unlock
To anything in my love courage.

It is time for me to go to Russia back.
Persia! Whether I abandon you?
Forever I leave you
For the love of darling to me to edge?
to me is time to go to Russia back.

Good-bye, a feather, good-bye, of
Let I could not unlock a door,
You gave beautiful suffering,
of Missile defense you in the homeland to me to sing.
Good-bye, feather, good-bye.



The blue homeland of Firdusi,
You cannot, memory prostyv, to Forget
about a tender urus
I eyes, thoughtfully simple,
the Blue homeland of Firdusi.

You are good, Persia, I know,
of the Rose as lamps, burn with
I to me again Freshness elastic speak about strange lands
Is good you, Persia, I know.

I drink last time
Aromas today that hmelna as home brew. to
I your voice, dear Shaga,
B this difficult partings hour
I Listen last time.

But I unless will forget you?
I in my vagabond destiny
Close and distant to me Luda
will be told by me about you - you I will not forget
I forever.

I am not afraid of your misfortunes,
But just in case your gloomy
I Leave a song about Russia: Beginning to sing
, think of me,
I to you I in the song will respond...

March, 1925.


“Why the moon so shines dimly
On gardens and Horossan`s walls?
As if I go East European Plain
Under the rustling fog bed curtains“ -

So I asked, dear Lala,
U of the cypresses which are silent at the night,
But their host words did not tell,
To the sky is proud the heads having overestimated.

“Why the moon so shines sadly?“ -
flowers was asked by me in a silent thicket,
I told flowers: “You feel
On grief of the rose rustling“.

The rose was spilled by petals,
Petals secretly told me:
“Your Shagane with another caressed, Shagane`s
of another kissed.

: “The Russian will not notice...
to Heart - song, and song - life and body...“
Because the moon so dimly shines,
Because sadly turned pale.

Too much change seemed,
of Tears and torments who waited for them who does not want.
But also all are blessed
On the earth lilac nights for ever.

1925., August.


Darling`s hands - couple of swans -
In gold of my hair dive.
in this world from people
the Song of love sing All and repeat.

Sang and I once it is far
I now I sing about the same again,
Therefore breathes deeply
Tenderness the impregnated word.

If I smother to vylyubit to the bottom,
Heart will become a block gold,
Only the Teheran moon
will not warm a song warmth.

I do not know how to me life to live: whether
to Burn down in caress of the darling Shagi
Or under an old age it is trembling to grieve
For last song courage?

At everything the gait is:
That is pleasant to an ear that - for an eye.
If the Persian composes badly a song,
Means, it for ever not from Shiraz.

About me and for these songs
you Speak so among people: He would sing
more gently and more wonderfully,
Yes was ruined by couple of swans.

1925., August.