Souren Sarumyan | The Burner of Memories
The boy was carefully hiding Grandpa’s photo under the mattress with his head on the pillow, pretending asleep. On the weather-stained photo Grandpa was still young – he was standing by a big round table and sadly smiling. Grandpa’s fists were big, almost in size with the table. Even in the dead of the night,...
The Shepherd of the Mounts
Mounts… high, emerald mounts… You, that are the land and throne of the gentle breeze, sweet-scented flowers, sacred verdure and dews, of lively, cold springs, gloomy clouds, igneous lightnings, gush of waters… You, that are so close to the Almighty, the stars, the moon, to the celestial grants and mysteries, solemn and majestic mounts… Is...
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