Trafika Europe 4 - Armenian Rhapsody

“Why, don’t you know yet, Mother?” wailed the eldest daughter.

“Some day I’ll marry and have a son With hair of chestnut brown. One day, I know he’ll climb this tree And he’ll come tumbling down. Alas, alas, Kikos dear! Alas, dear Kikos is dead!”

“Alas, alas! Why am I still living, dear Kikos? It were better that your poor old grandmother should be dead herself, than to have this happen to you!” wailed the woman. The peasant couldn’t understand where they had all gone. He began to look for them, and finally found them at the spring.

As soon as they saw him coming, they all ran to meet him, crying.

“Come, quick, you unfortunate grandfather! See what has happened to your favourite grandson Kikos!”

“Who’s a grandfather? Who’s Kikos?” asked the astounded man. “What’s this all about, anyway? I don’t understand. . .

“What! You don’t understand? Haven’t you heard?”

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