Classic Poem

My heart trembled in my breast from fear
From fear my hands were powerless
What shall I answer to my papa,
For I have lost my little knife?

It was strong and sounding,
With a single stroke it cut through a large cucumber,
I did not sleep out in the village of others,
And I did not take it from my bosom in the houses of others.

My knife had good manners
It remained with me all day without being tied
They made me drunk, they deceived me
And they seized it.

My knife gave me advice,
That I should keep aloof from dry bread,
I know that it is not good for thy teeth,
And also without pity it burthens thee.

When there are soft loaves and hot bread,
Rejoice and expand thy visage,
Give advice and preach to the matrons
To knead them with oil.

When we went to the banquet and feast,
My knife told me slyly,
When thou seest nice bits
Without me thou shalt not put out thy hand.

With much address it sliced the ham,
It encouraged me and exorted me
Fill the glass and give it to my hand
Let us eat and drink, that my soul may be gay.

My knife had great care of me,
It gave me good counsels with affection
Do not sit down near any body
In order that thou mayest satisfy thyself with little care.

I pity thee that thou hast no teeth,
When thou meetest with raw meats
Do not swallow it greedily,
That it remain not in thy throat and thou become a joke.

My knife was very affectionate with me
When we went into the house of others,
When it saw the meat roasting or in broth,
It did not let me take the curds.

My knife was more than a preacher,
Every day it preached to my parishioners
" When the day of blessing houses shall arrive,
Bring to my master fried fish."

My knife said to me, thou art my master,
Do not show me to any body,
Here for a moment abstain from wine
And do not let me be stolen.

Martiros had written this song,
My knife was fond of ham
They carried me to the wedding of a bridegroom
I had not advantage, because I lost it.

God was good and merciful,
I found my knife and it never left me more
When I saw others eat any thing
My heart trembled before them.

My knife said to me, Care not so much,
Rejoice that thou hast found me,
Till July thou must have patience,
And then I will give thee to eat cucumber with honey.

My knife was honest and covely,
It sat near the ladies
It gave many good counsels
" Take milk with cream.

When thou meetest with lamb's meat,
With pepper ground and roasted,
Sit down on the border and exhort it,
Give a little glass also over it."

It was older than you in time,
It said always to itself,
Bring not dry bread,
Because it will not tender the hand for shame.

In reading this psalm
I bless the soul of him who give it me,
Because the two days in which it abandoned me,
Not even a single sparrow fell into my teeth.

In the world there is not a more foolish man than me
I was desirous, although ignorant, of this song,
In order that men might smile and mock me
When they repeat it at great feasts.