The Legend of Akhtamar and the poem about princess Tamar's tragic love story

The Legend of Akhtamar and the poem about Armenian princess Tamar's tragic love story
The 2nd biggest island in the Lake Van is called Akhtamar. Akhtamar used to be a part of an ancient Armenian kingdom called Vaspurakan. It is home to the 10th century Armenian Holy Cross Cathedral built as a palatine church for the kings of Vaspurakan.
Armenians call this island "Akhtamar" because of a a tragic but at the same time very beautiful Armenian legend about Armenian princess Tamara who lived on the island and was in love with a commoner from the other shore of the lake.
Each night, he would swim across the dark expanse just to steal a few precious moments with her. She would light a fire to light his way across the dark waters.
One tragic night, her father, King Artashes, discovered what she was doing. Outraged, he locked her away for the night and extinguished the fire. The poor young man lost his way in the darkness. Before he drowned, he could be heard crying "Akh, Tamar" ("Oh, Tamar"). Some say that, even today, on dark nights, one can still hear him crying out "Akh, Tamar", as he searches in vain for his love.
The legend inspired Hovhannes Tumanyan to write a poem in 1891 about this tragic love story.
AKHTAMAR
HOVHANNES TUMANYAN
1891
Translated into Enblish by Vladimir Rogoff
Beside the laughing lake of Van
A little hamlet lies;
Each night into the waves a man
Leaps under darkened skies
He cleaves the waves with mighty arm,
Needing no raft or boat,
And swims, disdaining risk and harm,
Towards the isle remote.
On the dark island burns so bright
A piercing, luring ray:
There's lit a beacon every night
To guide him on his way.
Upon the island is that fire
Lit by Tamar the fair;
Who waits, all burning with desire,
Beneath the shelter there.
The lover's heart-how doth it beat!
How beat the roaring waves!
But, bold and scorning to retreat
The elements he braves.
And now Tamar the fair doth hear,
With trembling heart aflame,
The water splashing-oh, so near,
And fire consumes her frame.
All quiet is on the shore around,
And, black, there looms a shade;
The darkness utters not a sound,
The swimmer finds the maid.
The tide-waves ripple, lisp and splash
And murmur, soft and low;
They urge each other, mingle, clash,
As, ebbing out, they go.
Flutter and rustle the dark waves,
And with them every star
Whispers how sinfully behaves
The shameless maid Tamar;
Their whisper shakes her throbbing heart…
'This time, as was before!
The youth into the waves doth dart,
The maiden prays on the shore.
But certain villains, full of spite
Against them did conspire,
And on a hellish, mirky night
Put out the guiding fire.
The luckless lover lost his way,
And only from afar
The wind is carrying in his sway
The moans of: "Ah, Tamar!"
And through the night his voice is heard
Upon the craggy shores,
And, though it's muffled and blurred
By the waves' rapid roars,
The word fly forward-faint they are-
"Ah, Tamar!"
And in the morn the splashing tide
The hapless youth cast out,
Who, battling with the water, died
In an unequal boat;
Cold lips are clenched, two words they bar:
"Ah, Tamar!"
And ever since, both near and far,
They call the island Akhtamar

[@mustafanazifart]

it is good to read poem.. thanks for sharing... akdamar (akthmar church) has been restored...