I wish I could understand Armenian so I could translate this to English! I hope some day to watch this and understand dialogue but the animation is soooo gorgeous regardless.

The art style is simply beautiful. I'd love to know the history behind this animation.

@noname3153

Жыл бұрын

The story of the cartoon “The Legend of Lake Parvana” tells of an Armenian kingdom whose ruler fell seriously ill. He understood that his days were numbered so he tried to find his only daughter a good husband. Throughout the kingdom, messengers were sent with the news that a large-scale pre-marital screening was to take place. The bride had to choose a husband for herself, the one whose talents would appeal to her. A variety of applicants arrived, but each of them was assigned impossible tasks. On the night when one hunter was trying to produce a non-extinguishable fire, the king passed away. His daughter went to the street and began to cry. Her sorrow was great, and she turned into a stone statue from which a life-giving stream began to flow. It filled the Parvana Lake which is still amazing us with its beauty. At the heart of this story is the story of Hovhannes Ohanyan who interpreted the ancient version of the origin of the most beautiful lake in Armenia. Hope this helps☺️💛

@noname3153

Жыл бұрын

The high-throned Abul and Metin mountains Back-to-back in proud silence stand, Holding high on their mighty shoulders Parvana-a beautiful ancient land. And people say that there in his castle Over the steeps, next to the sky, Lived a king, the hoary lord of the mountains Who ruled Parvana in days gone by. The king had a daughter, and such was her charm, That no one ever in his life did meet, Hunting among the lofty mountains, A doe so beautiful and so sweet. His gray old age and his mountain realm With her childish gaiety she adorned And the old but happy King of Parvana His darling daughter simply adored. The years to come promised still more joy; She came of age, and, legends report, The king despatched his ambassadors To every castle and to every court. “Where is, he inquired, “the courageous youth That can win my daughter by main and might? Let him don his armour and mount his steed And come to take my daughter by right.” II Their sabres clanged and clattered, Their horses pranced and reared When before the castle Those brave young knights appeared. In front of the grand white castle Of Parvana’s hoary king All waited in impatience For the contest to begin. Folk from all the neighbourhood Had left their hearth and home To see who wins the maiden For his very own. The trumpet echoed. All the court Assembled in the square. Then came the gracious hoary king And his daughter fair. Her father came like a gloomy cloud And like a moon came she Arm-in-arm, they were a sight That all eyes were glad to see. And all who gathered were amazed That such a maid could be. The brave young men stood silently In spellbound reverie. “Now look you at these splendid knights All come to seek your hand. Prepared to fight in contest fair, Upon the square they stand. “One will display his manly strength, Another his skill with arms, A further one his horsemanship, Still another his grace and charm. “And when the contest comes to end, And they come to claim their prize, And when the bravest of them file In parade before your eyes, “Then throw an apple to your choice, The champion of the day, And let the whole world envy you, So happy and so gay. The king was about to raise his hand That the contest may begin When the princess set the apple by And thus she spoke to him: “What if a mighty-muscled knave Beats a gentle-hearted dove? He may be champion of the day But never win my love." Then asked the rivals gathered Around the royal stand: “What would a champion have to do To win your heart and hand?” “Is it wealth you want? We’ll get you boats With gold and silver laden. Or is your wish a shining star? We’ll bring it down from heaven.’’ “No need have I for silver, No need have I for gold. And though you bring me gems and pearls, You still may leave me cold. “The man that is to be my lord Must find undying fire. Whoever brings the fire to me Will have his heart’s desire.” The gallant knights then took to horse And gallop off did they. Each chose himself a different road And followed each his way. They rode to fetch the princess fire That would forever burn. But though many years rolled by, Not one man did return. III “Oh, Father dear, where are the knights, Why do they not return? Perhaps it can’t be found at all, Fire that will always burn?” “Yes, daughter dear, they sure will come And bring undying fire. But the roads and ways of dauntless men Are full of dangers dire. “They have to pass through evil ground And in evil water swim, And clash in deadly battle With the spiteful Jinn.” Year after year went by again But no one brought the flame. “Look from the window, Father dear; It’s surely time they came. “More and more often in my dreams My faithful knight I see, Holding the fire, he gallops up, But I wake, and gone is he!” “Be patient, daughter, he will come! In seeking for the fire He who goes after it himself May oftentime expire.” Again the years go rolling by. The princess waits in vain. The horsemen never came in sight On the mountains or the plain. “Oh, Father dear, I fade with grief, Sorrow burns my soul. Can it be there is no such fire In the world at all?” But nothing could the mournful king To his dear child reply. Black doubt besieged his hoary head And sorely did he sigh. IV Year after year sped past again. His daughter watched in vain The melancholy neighbourhood: No horse nor rider came. At last the princess lost all hope, And sad tears did she weep And soon the castle lay beneath A lake both vast and deep. The princess vanished in the lake Whose source were her sweet eyes; Since then among the mountains tall Clear as a tear it lies. Beneath the lake’s transparent waves, In the shadowy, green deeps, The castle of the luckless king Its haughty look still keeps. And now, as soon as twilight falls And windows come alight A myriad moths as if possessed Begin their nightly flight. And people say those luckless moths That perish in the flame Were once Parvana’ s gallant knights Whom passion made insane. Turned into moths upon their way, Whenever they see fire They fly to it from far and near And in the flame expire. And this is the English translation of the beautiful poem written by Hovhannes Tumanyan. He wrote so many beautiful poems for example and . They are so beautiful too💛

@moonbug7252

Жыл бұрын

@@noname3153 thanks so much for the poem translation! when i meant the history, I meant about the animation, sorry for not being clearer. once again thanks

@bouhrazowskisullivan1403

Жыл бұрын

@@noname3153 Thank you so much for the detailed explanations and the beautiful poem.

Greetings from Britain. I speak Arabic and English. I hope one day you’ll be able to add English subtitles to this wonderful work ❤❤

@estenmaxwell2945

Жыл бұрын

Can you translate it now?

as an Armenian whose Nana made us watch these as kids , watching this as a kid was my gay awakening lol

8:13 she was going to say yes for this man until he showed her that punch of girls dancing in front of her, girls don’t like to see that.

Tão triste, tão belo...❤️

The Legend of Lake Parvana" cartoon, based on the poem of Hovhannes Tumanyan, tells about 🇦🇲king who wanted his daughter to marry an honorable man. When king passed away, her sorrow was so great that she turned into statue, from which stream began to flow filling

this is Art

Armenian , it’s called the legend of lake Parvana

🙏🙏🙏❤️😘🌿🕊️🌾

💜💜💜

Do we know if there is a translated version of this masterpiece somewhere on the wide web ?

@claude2571

5 ай бұрын

Did you find anything?

@annaharutyunyan4183

5 ай бұрын

​@@claude2571 I The high-throned Abul and Metin mountains Back-to-back in proud silence stand, Holding high on their mighty shoulders Parvana-a beautiful ancient land. And people say that there in his castle Over the steeps, next to the sky, Lived a king, the hoary lord of the mountains Who ruled Parvana in days gone by. The king had a daughter, and such was her charm, That no one ever in his life did meet, Hunting among the lofty mountains, A doe so beautiful and so sweet. His gray old age and his mountain realm With her childish gaiety she adorned And the old but happy King of Parvana His darling daughter simply adored. The years to come promised still more joy; She came of age, and, legends report, The king despatched his ambassadors To every castle and to every court. “Where is, he inquired, “the courageous youth That can win my daughter by main and might? Let him don his armour and mount his steed And come to take my daughter by right.” II Their sabres clanged and clattered, Their horses pranced and reared When before the castle Those brave young knights appeared. In front of the grand white castle Of Parvana’s hoary king All waited in impatience For the contest to begin. Folk from all the neighbourhood Had left their hearth and home To see who wins the maiden For his very own. The trumpet echoed. All the court Assembled in the square. Then came the gracious hoary king And his daughter fair. Her father came like a gloomy cloud And like a moon came she Arm-in-arm, they were a sight That all eyes were glad to see. And all who gathered were amazed That such a maid could be. The brave young men stood silently In spellbound reverie. “Now look you at these splendid knights All come to seek your hand. Prepared to fight in contest fair, Upon the square they stand. “One will display his manly strength, Another his skill with arms, A further one his horsemanship, Still another his grace and charm. “And when the contest comes to end, And they come to claim their prize, And when the bravest of them file In parade before your eyes, “Then throw an apple to your choice, The champion of the day, And let the whole world envy you, So happy and so gay. The king was about to raise his hand That the contest may begin When the princess set the apple by And thus she spoke to him: “What if a mighty-muscled knave Beats a gentle-hearted dove? He may be champion of the day But never win my love.' Then asked the rivals gathered Around the royal stand: “What would a champion have to do To win your heart and hand?” “Is it wealth you want? We’ll get you boats With gold and silver laden. Or is your wish a shining star? We’ll bring it down from heaven.’’ “No need have I for silver, No need have I for gold. And though you bring me gems and pearls, You still may leave me cold. “The man that is to be my lord Must find undying fire. Whoever brings the fire to me Will have his heart’s desire.” The gallant knights then took to horse And gallop off did they. Each chose himself a different road And followed each his way. They rode to fetch the princess fire That would forever burn. But though many years rolled by, Not one man did return. III “Oh, Father dear, where are the knights, Why do they not return? Perhaps it can’t be found at all, Fire that will always burn?” “Yes, daughter dear, they sure will come And bring undying fire. But the roads and ways of dauntless men Are full of dangers dire. “They have to pass through evil ground And in evil water swim, And clash in deadly battle With the spiteful Jinn.” Year after year went by again But no one brought the flame. “Look from the window, Father dear; It’s surely time they came. “More and more often in my dreams My faithful knight I see, Holding the fire, he gallops up, But I wake, and gone is he!” “Be patient, daughter, he will come! In seeking for the fire He who goes after it himself May oftentime expire.” Again the years go rolling by. The princess waits in vain. The horsemen never came in sight On the mountains or the plain. “Oh, Father dear, I fade with grief, Sorrow burns my soul. Can it be there is no such fire In the world at all?” But nothing could the mournful king To his dear child reply. Black doubt besieged his hoary head And sorely did he sigh. IV Year after year sped past again. His daughter watched in vain The melancholy neighbourhood: No horse nor rider came. At last the princess lost all hope, And sad tears did she weep And soon the castle lay beneath A lake both vast and deep. The princess vanished in the lake Whose source were her sweet eyes; Since then among the mountains tall Clear as a tear it lies. Beneath the lake’s transparent waves, In the shadowy, green deeps, The castle of the luckless king Its haughty look still keeps. And now, as soon as twilight falls And windows come alight A myriad moths as if possessed Begin their nightly flight. And people say those luckless moths That perish in the flame Were once Parvana’ s gallant knights Whom passion made insane. Turned into moths upon their way, Whenever they see fire They fly to it from far and near And in the flame expire.

Queria que as legendas em português estivessem liberadas

how can i see in english subtitle?

@Khachatur.Yeritsyan

Жыл бұрын

Unfortunately in this moment haven't English subtitle for this cartoon.

@IamgladthatIamglad

Жыл бұрын

@@Khachatur.Yeritsyan that sucks :(

@vahannalbandian8338

Жыл бұрын

Here’s a translation of the original poem the story is based on. It’s pretty accurate as to what’s going on screen

@IamgladthatIamglad

Жыл бұрын

@@vahannalbandian8338 I can't see it... Thank you for the effort tho

@pinsstudio

Жыл бұрын

@@IamgladthatIamglad i found the cartoon on my fy, here was the context given in the caption: Parvana (1970 The story of the cartoon "The Legend of Lake Parvana" tells of an Armenian kingdom whose ruler fell seriously ill. He understood that his days were numbered so he tried to find his only daughter a good husband. Throughout the kingdom, messengers were sent with the news that a large-scale pre-marital screening was to take place. The bride had to choose a husband for herself, the one whose talents would appeal to her. A variety of applicants arrived, but each of them was assigned impossible tasks. On the night when one hunter was trying to produce a non-extinguishable fire, the king passed away. His daughter went to the street and began to cry. Her sorrow was great, and she turned into a stone statue from which a life-giving stream began to flow. It filled the Parvana Lake, the most beautiful lake in Armenia

Which language is this?!

@gayavoski7681

Жыл бұрын

Armenian