Gna, Blbool-Goosan Sheram (1906) 

Gna, blbool, trir gna
Es aryoonot ashkharen
Trir, blbool, el mi kena
Bazhanetsin kez varden

Go, nightingale, fly away 
From this bloody world.
Fly, nightingale, and do not stay…
They have separated you from the rose.

K’o sirekan siroon vardet
Kamin pchets choratsoots
Arnov ltsrats vardarant,
Ayginert pchatsoots.

The wind blew, drying
Your beloved beautiful rose…
Your rose garden is filled with blood,
Your gardens are ruined.

Arden eghav agravi tegh,
Estegh el vard chi batsvi,
Zoor mi voghba, kheghchook blbool,
Tsavert ar heratsir.

Already was the place of the crow,
Here also the rose will not open.
Do not lament in vain, miserable nightingale,
You escaped your pains.

Translated by Larison