Desideratum

Mikail Aslan - Bahçelerde Ot Olur

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harpy:

Bakhchanere Khot Glli (Bahçelerde Ot Olur)
Mikail Aslan and Akunq Ensemble
PETAG: Armenian Songs from Dersim

Bakhchanere khot gili, / Herbs and blossoms in the garden will be plentiful
Tsoren, gari khent gili / Wheat and barley will be plentiful
Tghan akhchga sirum / The boys loves a girl
Juvakhtnere khent gili / The streets will be crazy

Dun parak es, boyet ergar / You are thin with willowy stature
 ? Eylame tseanid heyran,  / Alem is a slave to your beautiful, ringing voice
Elir, ertank mer tune / Come, let’s go to our house
Yes ellim kizi ghurban / I will be a sacrifice (offering) to you

Tzarin vra nush gili / The almond tree will blossom
 ? Bakig mi dur ish gili / Don’t give me a kiss,
? Egyal didas, hima tur / Give yourself to me now
Vaghvan mna ush gili / I cannot wait until tomorrow, it will be too late

I’ve posted this before but I’m posting it again with lyrics. It’s beautiful. Listen.

This song is in the Dersim dialect of Armenian. Turkish-Armenian-Kurdish-Persian-Arabic fused words there is no dictionary for. Would anyone care to help me with my translations and sentences I’ve put a question mark in front of? Is “eylam” a word or a variant of the name Alem? If so, is it possible a man named Alem wrote the song?

Also, this paragraph is linked to most of Mikail’s songs. Heavy words on displacements and genocide:

Even during my childhood, there were certain villages whose names I used to repeat over and over in my mind. “Norşin,” “Hopik,” “Axweşî,” “Sorpiyan”… Even though Zaza was my mother tongue, I somehow couldn’t manage to find a meaning for these words. Then I’d ask my mother, and she’d quickly brush them off, saying “my son, those names are left from the Armenians.” The Armenians who gave our villages their names no longer existed; it was as if the earth had opened up and swallowed them. Where could these people have gone, who left us our villages’ names, their dilapidated churches and their gravestones? Sometimes, the stones left from their ruined churches would turn up in the walls of our old-style, unstuccoed houses. Did these stones have no tongue, was there nobody who understood their language?