Word Stories: Armenian Words, Iranian Origins

According to Hrachya Acharian, the celebrated Armenian linguist, some 16 percent of Armenian root words are of Iranian origin. To make this fact more tangible, he wrote a couple of very short stories using exclusively words of Iranian origin, contending that the stories would be equally intelligible to both Armenians and Persian speakers.  

On the occasion of the Festival of Norooz, celebrated in Iran and surrounding countries to mark the start of the solar New Year, we are posting here one of Acharian’s short stories about a commander, his luxurious garden and his daughter lounging in it.  


Ահա այս ընդարձակ յարաբերութեան եւ կուլտուրական ազդեցութեան արդիւնքն այն եղաւ, որ հայերէն լեզուն մեծապէս ազդուեց պարսկերէնից եւ վերցրեց նրանից բազմաթիւ բառեր, ոճեր ու դարձուածքներ: Այնքան, որ զարմանալի թող չլինի, եթէ ասենք, որ կարելի է գրել ամբողջ էջեր, որոնք հայերէն ու պարսկերէն համարեա նոյն դուրս գան:  

Ահա այսպիսի երկու նմուշ, որ յատկապէս կազմել եմ հետաքրքրութեան համար. 

Հրամանատարն վզուրկ ու զօրաւոր` մի պարտեզ ունէր. այն պարտէզում մէկ բուրաստան կար. դուռն այն բուրաստանի գոհարէ ու զմրուխտէ ու յակինթէ էր, ո՛չ աղիւսէ կամ ագուռէ: Ի վերայ դրան գոհարի` դրօշակներ երանգ-երանգ, բուրաստանում վարդ ու մեխակ ու նունուֆար ու շուշան ու ռեհան ու նարկիս ու շահասպրամ. համակ երանգ երանգ ու գոյնզգոյն, սպիտակ ու կապոյտ ու լազուարթ. հազար ու բիւր սարեկներ բուրգի վրայ եւ գրոհ կաչաղակաց ի վերայ գմբէթի`  դափ ու թմբուկ ու գոս կը զարնէին: Շաղն ի վերայ մանուշակի նստած,  դուստրն հրամանատարի` պարտէզում բալիշի վրայ նստած, ինչպէս հրեշտակ, գէսն յամբարաբոյր պատրաստած, ապարանջանն բուստէ ի բազուկ, թագն ի ճակատ, ինչպէս պատկեր ու նկար կը խնդար: 

 

Հրաչեայ Աճառեան, Հայոց լեզվի պատմություն I մաս: Յերեվան : Պետական համալսարանի հրատարակչություն, 1940, էջ 223-224.

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Word Stories - խնդակցութիւն

It has long been my custom, in congratulating friends who have achieved professional success, or are otherwise celebrating some happy occasion or other, to proffer, alongside my congratulations – շնորհաւորութիւններ (after all, շնորհ is grace) – my sincere խնդակցութիւն. Recently, upon congratulating a friend, I was asked to comment on the word խնդակցութիւն.

The root is խինդ – rarely encountered in this form, but giving rise to the noun խնդութիւն and to the very common verb, խնդամ. In modern usage, the word is a synonym to ծիծաղիմ, meaning “I laugh” – whence also the noun խնդուք, meaning “laughter”. Hence the expression քահ-քահ խնդալ, roughly corresponding to roaring with laughter, laughing out loud, laughing heartily (though not perhaps going as far as the internet acronym ROFL – “rolling on the floor laughing”!).

But in classical Armenian խնդամ means “I am glad”. The Three Archimandrites’ Lexicon of Venice (an unsurpassed publication, of which readers will hear more in the present series) gives gaudeo, laetor, exulto and delector as Latin equivalents, and ուրախ լինել, ուրախանալ, բերկրիլ, ցնծալ, հրճուիլ.

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There is a beautiful Armenian hymn, which is sung on Palm Sunday, kneeling, and thrice, during the Vespers service immediately preceding the ceremony of the “opening of the doors”, Դռնբացէք. The second stanzas starts with the word, in the second person imperative – խնդա՛. In fact the stanzas just before – Ուրախ լեր եկեղեցի սուրբ, and just after, Զուարճացիր եւ բերկրեա ժողովուրդ Աստուծոյ – express very much the same sentiment as the one in question: Խնդա՛ յոյժ դուստր վերին Սիովնի – “Rejoice greatly”, or “Be exceedingly glad!” Courtesy of the National Library of Armenia, I have reproduced the hymn from the relevant page (p. 248) in the editio princeps of the Armenian Hymnal (Amsterdam, 1664-1665), herewith. I have also attached a recording of this stanza as sung by one of the most musicianly interpreters of Armenian hymns I have encountered, namely Zareh Srpazan of blessed memory, Archbishop Zareh Aznaworean (1947-2004), whom I was extremely lucky to count amongst my own teachers.

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To add a bit of visual interest, I have included this image, which appears in a seventeenth-century հմայիլ or hmayil (prayer-scroll amulet), kept at the Matenadaran Institute in Yerevan. It appears just above a prayer from the Book of Lamentation by St. Gregory of Narek: the Saint himself is evidently portrayed on his knees, apparently officiating during a service of Դռնբացէք, which in the olden days used to be held literally outside the church, until the doors were ceremoniously opened, after hymns were sung, psalms recited and prayers said. I have also included a photograph of Zareh Srpazan from a Palm Sunday service (albeit not from the Դռնբացէք, but from the Պատարագ, the Divine Liturgy, celebrated earlier in the day), probably from around 1981.

Now կից has several senses: it usually means “adjacent”, but is often used to convey the sense of “alongside”, “together”, “similar”, and “equal”, and thus corresponds to the prefix “co-”. A co-adjutor Catholicos is thus an աթոռակից կաթողիկոս – one whose throne is adjacent to that of the catholicos “proper”, as it were, but also with similar powers and status. The word գործակցութիւն means, by the same token, “co-operation”. (I do urge my students to avoid the ungainly but distressingly widespread համագործակցութիւն – a grotesque tautology, roughly corresponding to“co-co-operation”!)

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As it turns out, խնդակից is attested in an old translation of the great Jewish philosopher, Փիլոն Աղեքսանդրացի (Philo of Alexandria – many of whose works have been preserved in Armenian alone, the original Greek texts having perished); at one point he writes:

Լսօղքն խնդասցեն, եւ խնդակից լիցին, which we might translate as “Those who hear shall be glad, and share in the joy”!

Accordingly, in offering friends my խնդակցութիւն, I am letting them know that I share in their joy, and that I too am glad, as they are (by the same token, alas, whereby one may offer condolences using the word ցաւակցութիւն – sharing their pain, c‘aw).

Allow me to commend this underused word – for its numerous and entirely joyous associations, its ancient and well-attested roots, and, not least, for the empathetic and positive sentiment that it embodies. Surely it must bespeak of true friendship. After all, as another late teacher of mine, the conductor Carlo Maria Giulini used to say, any reasonably kind person feels sympathetic towards someone who experiences suffering; but being able genuinely to share in the gladness experienced by others is one of the marks of genuine friendship.


Written by Haig Utidjian

Word Stories - բամ and փորոտալ

A few thoughts on the words բամ and փորոտալ 

I was led to think of the above two words in connection with the Church Feast of the Vardanank‘, the Vardanian Saints, which was celebrated only the other week. But rather than plunge headlong into the words themselves, I shall start with a rather fascinating excursus, if I may.

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Pietro Bianchini (1828-1905), characterised as «իտալացի կտրիճ երաժիշտ... Պ. Պետրոս Պիանքինի» by an anonymous Armenian writer (“an heroic Italian musician, Mr Peter Bianchini”), was a Venetian violinist, composer, conductor and teacher.

At present he is remembered, if at all, for his harmonised transcription of the chants of the Armenian Divine Liturgy, based on the singing of the Mekhitarist Fathers in San Lazzaro, on which he started working in 1855. Few know that Bianchini may well have been the very first to publish substantial excerpts from the repertory of Armenian sacred chants in Western staff notation. Yet I should now like to mention a completely different piece – one that most Armenians know, albeit without knowing that it was composed by Bianchini!

Generations of diasporan Armenian schoolchildren have learned to sing a celebrated song, without knowing that Bianchini was the composer: namely «Բա՜մ. փորոտան» – a setting of an excerpt from a poem by the Mekhitarist monk, botanist, historian and poet, and almost exact contemporary of Bianchini’s, namely Fr. Łewond Ališan (1820-1901), Երգ ու գնացք զօրացն հայոց ընդ Վահանայ Մամիկոնենոյ ի Շաւարշական դաշտին վրէժք (1850), which he published in San Lazzaro, Venice in 1850. It is the “song and march” of the rallying Armenian soldiers under Vahan Mamikonean, eager to avenge the defeat of Vardan Mamikonean of 451.

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As an aside, I might mention that my attention has been drawn to the fact that some rebellious pupils may have had recourse to fitting the song with alternative but similar-sounding satirical words, with a fair peppering of Turkish to boot – but I imagine that readers will not be interested in those (although comments will be welcome)! There were also innumerable, more legitimate musical arrangements made of the song – and so far I have had much fun collating and contrasting seven versions of it, and tracing out certain discernible trends and tendencies.

It would be no exaggeration to say that Bianchini’s setting has made Ališan’s poem famous, and was adopted by the people as a kind of informal national anthem. These two giants were almost exact contemporaries, and almost certainly knew each other well. And only a generation or so later, the song was recorded, twice, by the celebrated tenor singer (a friend and protegé of Komitas, and a soloist at La Scala in Milan and at the Paris Opera), Armenag Shah-Mouradian (1878-1939) – known as the “nightingale of Tarōn”.

I have placed both recordings on my YouTube channel, where they may be enjoyed by all. The first recording was made in Constantinople in 1914, when the singer was accompanied by none other than Archimandrite Komitas himself at the piano. The second recording was made in New York in May 1917, with orchestral accompaniment.

The Venetian composer, conductor and violinist, Pietro Bianchini (1828-1905) has a very substantial body of compositions, much of it still unpublished. He is...

The Venetian composer, conductor and violinist, Pietro Bianchini (1828-1905) has a very substantial body of compositions, much of it still unpublished. He is...

I am grateful to the Cairo-based Armenian musicologist, Haig Avakian, for his generosity in providing me with photographs of both discs. It is notable that in neither case is Bianchini named as the composer; and the later recording merely mentions it as a “National song”. Though misleading, this does indicate the status this piece had come to enjoy by now. No less interestingly, readers will notice that in both instances the song was mis-labelled as Բամբ որոտան (instead of the correct Բամ փորոտան), and indeed in the earlier recording it is clearly discernible that Shah-Mouradian even sings “Pamp vorodan” instead of “Pam porodan”!

But what exactly does «Բա՜մ. փորոտան» mean, and why was there a tendency to mis-transcribe those two words? Բամ is a somewhat onomatopoeic ձայնարկութիւն– an interjection or an exclamation. A good equivalent might be “Boom!”. But the problem arises with the second word. The verb փորոտալis relatively unknown, and therefore many have incorrectly assumed that the proper title is in fact Բամբորոտան – presumably loosely meaning “Deep[ly] they thunder!” – բամբ being Komitas’ favourite choice of Armenian word for “bass” – the lowest male singing voice. But in fact, there truly does exist a verb փորոտալ, and it means “to roar, to blow” – with a definite suggestion that the sound is deep and mighty – rather as the roar of a lion. The word փորis relevant here: it means belly (or abdomen – the usual Armenian equivalent for the more scientific word being որովայն). One thinks of advice given to singers and brass players – the best of whom always seem to produce the breath from the diaphragm, producing a fuller and more rounded sound and better control. Less agreeably, our verb is also related to the word փորոտիք, which many will know from various Armenian translations of Scripture: in the Acts of the Apostles (1:18) we read that Judas, having betrayed his master, died and his entrails – փորոտիք – fell out. So much, then, for the etymology of փորոտալ. All in all, we may safely conclude that «Բա՜մ. փորոտան» means something along the lines of“ ‘Boom!’ they roar”. Admittedly it does not seem to have quite the same glorious ring to it in English as it does in the Armenian original! But I hope you might now enjoy the song, knowing what it was genuinely called, and what it is about!

By Haig Utidjian