From birth a lovely woman crowns the world's creation.
Through middle age and on, her charm shall still exist—
A jewel that time in passing can never touch or ravage—
A hundred winters' storms her splendour shall resist.

A woman of true beauty shall never cease to please,
Delightful, slim and supple as swaying cypress-trees,
Her winsome, sweet enchantment always shall increase...
Our love for her, our trust, forever shall persist.

Let her hundreds birthday come!—Still upon that day,
Though her hand be weak and tremble, although her head be grey,
With a quick glance of her eye she can steal our hearts away,
We fall beneath her spell and do whate'er she list.

Her dignity increases beyond that of her youth.
Her eyes are clear, serene, as limpid as the truth.
Against her sharp-tipped lashes no man's heart is proof.
The arrows from her bow their aim have never missed.

Vagif, to know delights of loving at its best
Choose one whose proven heart will stand life's sternest test,
And not some wilful girl who gives the soul no rest,
Or night and day you'll swear from loving to desist.

Translated by Tom Botting

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