We Are Few But We Are Called Armenians

By Paruyr Sevak

We are few but we are called Armenians.

We do not put ourselves above anyone.

Simply we also admit that we, only we have Mount Ararat.

And that it is right here on the clear Sevan.

That the sky could make its exact duplicate.

Simply David has indeed fought right here.

Simply the Narek was written right here.

Simply we know how to build from the rock, a monastery.

How to make fish from stone, how to make man from clay.

To learn to become the student of the beautiful,

the kind, the noble, and the good.


We are few but we are called Armenians.

We do not put ourselves above anyone.

Simply our fortune has just been so different.

Simply we have just shed too much blood.

Simply in our lives of centuries long.

When we were many and when we were strong.

Even then we did not oppress any nation.

See, centuries have come and centuries have passed,

Yet over no one have we become tyrants

If we have enslaved, only with our eyes.

And if we have ruled, only with our books,

If we have prevailed, only with our talents.


And if we have ever oppressed,

It has only been with our wounds.

Simply with us death had fallen in love,

Yet we willingly did not give ourselves.

And when we were forced to leave our own land,

Where ever we reached, where ever we went.

Everywhere we left indelible trace.

We have joined efforts for everyone, always.

We ploughed everywhere, we built bridges, and we tied arches.

We ploughed everywhere and we brought forth crops.

We gave everyone mind, proverbs, and songs.

Another words we defended them from spiritual coldness.


Everywhere we left our eyes reflection

A peace of our soul and a sacrament from the heart itself.

We are few, truly, but we are Armenians.

And by being few we do not succumb.

Because it is better to be few in life, then to control life by being many.

Because it is better rather to be few, then to be masters by being many.

Because it is better to be few, then to be swindlers.

We are few, yes, but we are Armenians.

And we know how to sigh from yet unhealed wounds.

But with a new juice we rejoice and we cheer.


We know how to thrust into the foe’s side

And how to lend a helping hand to our friend,

How to repay goodness which was done to us

by compensating for each one by ten

And the benefit of it just in the sun

We vote with our lives, not only with our hands.

Yet if they desire to rule us with force

We know how to smoke and how to quench their fire,

And if it is needed to disperse darkness,

we can turn into ashes like burning candles.

And we know as well how to make love with lust,

And we do this always by respecting others…

See we do not put ourselves above anyone,

but we know ourselves


We are called Armenians.


And why should we not feel pride about that

We are. We shall be, and become many…