Guide to Computer Forensics and Investigations

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Guide to Computer Forensics and Investigations, 4e, 1435498836
Ch. 7 Solutions-1

Chapter 7 Solutions

Review Questions
1. What are the five required functions for computer forensics tools?

acquisition, validation and discrimination, extraction, reconstruction, and reporting

2. A disk partition can be copied only with a command-line acquisition tool. True or
False?

False

3. What two data-copying methods are used in software data acquisitions?

c. Logical and physical

4. During a remote acquisition of a suspect drive, RAM data is lost. True or False?

False

5. Hashing, filtering, and file header analysis make up which function of computer
forensics tools?

a. Validation and discrimination

6. Sleuth Kit is used to access Autopsy’s tools. True or False?

False (Autopsy is the front end to Sleuth Kit.)

7. When considering new forensics software tools, you should do which of the
following?

c. Test and validate the software.

8. Of the six functions of computer forensics tools, what are the subfunctions of the
Extraction function?

Data viewing, Keyword searching, Decompressing, Carving, Decrypting, and Bookmarking

9. Data can’t be written to the disk with a command-line tool. True or False?

False

10. Hash values are used for which of the following purposes? (Choose all that apply.)

b. Filtering known good files from potentially suspicious data

d. Validating that the original data hasn’t changed

11. What’s the name of the NIST project established to collect all known hash values for
commercial software and OS files?
Guide to Computer Forensics and Investigations, 4e, 1435498836
Ch. 7 Solutions-2

National Software Reference Library (NSRL)

12. Many of the newer GUI tools use a lot of system resources. True or False?

True

13. Building a forensic workstation is more expensive than purchasing one. True or
False?

False

14. A live acquisition is considered an accepted forensics practice. True or False?

False

15. Which of the following is true of most drive-imaging tools? (Choose all that apply.)

b. They ensure that the original drive doesn’t become corrupt and damage the digital
evidence.

c. They create a copy of the original drive.

16. The standards for testing forensics tools are based on which criteria?

c. ISO 17025

17. Which of the following tools can examine files created by WinZip?

a. FTK

18. List four subfunctions of reconstructing drives.

disk-to-disk copy, image-to-disk copy, partition-to-partition copy, image-to-partition copy

19. When validating the results of a forensic analysis, you should do which of the
following?

d. Do both a and b.

20. NIST testing procedures are valid only for government agencies. True or False?

False

Hands-On Projects
Hands-On Project 7-1
The purpose of this project is to show students how to prepare media for a computer investigation.
The target media for copying data from an original suspect drive must be clean of all other data.

Hands-On Project 7-2

This project shows how to eliminate data from storage media permanently.
Guide to Computer Forensics and Investigations, 4e, 1435498836
Ch. 7 Solutions-3

Hands-On Project 7-3

The purpose of this project is to show students how data can be inserted in a drive in places where
it can’t normally be seen in operating systems.

Hands-On Project 7-4

Students learn how to use FTK to locate and identify hidden data on the test drive and see how a
GUI tool analyzes drive data for investigation purposes.

Hands-On Project 7-5

Students should have search results similar to the following files provided with instructor
resources:

• Chap07-05_Report_FTK_Index-Search.pdf

• Chap07-05_Report_FTK_Live-Search.pdf

• Chap07-05_Report_FTK_May52005.pdf

• Chap07-05_Report_FTK_report.zip

• Chap07-05_Report_ProDiscover.pdf

• Chap07-05_Report_ProDiscover.rtf

Student reports, if assigned, should list results of the comparison test and state which tool can
perform these functions better, such as live versus indexed searching.

Case Projects
Case Project 7-1
Students should specify what tool they have chosen, based on their resources. As mentioned in
Chapter 3, students should list current computer forensics tools, such as ProDiscover, FTK, or
EnCase, along with hardware such as a forensic workstation, storage media, such as USB drives,
and so on.

Case Project 7-2

Students’ responses will vary, depending on the tools they selected and the available versions.
Using Table 7-1, students should be able to determine whether a tool has similar, better, or worse
capabilities than the software suites they’re examining.

Case Project 7-3

Students should find tools such as BlackBag, SubRosaSoft, Runtime, F.I.R.E., SMART, and
Sleuth Kit/Autopsy. They should note that the validation process remains the same, no matter
what tool is used.

Case Project 7-4

Guide to Computer Forensics and Investigations, 4e, 1435498836
Ch. 7 Solutions-4

Students should be able to answer this question by using the information in this chapter and by
working through Hands-On Project 7-5. Encourage students to think of new ideas for developing
test drives with hidden data so that they gain experience in determining criteria for testing new
forensics products.
Another Random Scribd Document
with Unrelated Content
WITHOUT THEE WHAT ARE SONG AND DANCE TO
ME?

By SAYAT NOVA

Without thee what are song and dance to me?

The castagnettes I throw down wearily.
My heart and thoughts are ever filled with thee,
So rhymes and verses leave me, one by one.

How can one bandage serve for gashes twain?

How on two masters wait a single swain?
Would not one gardener tend two groves in vain?
For he must graft the saplings one by one.

Well said our fathers, speaking of such woes,

“I made a garden, others plucked the rose.
Theirs was the sweetness, mine the thorny close.”
In sooth these things befell me one by one!

Without thee what are riches unto me?

What worth could I in silks or cashmeres see?
Arrayed in rags and sackcloth I would be,
Wandering around the convents, one by one,

To meet perchance with some one, who might tell,

My fair one, how to free me from thy spell;
For Sayat Nova’s torments far excel
The Seven Wise Men’s complaints told one by one!
 THE LAKE OF VAN

By RAFFI

Unutterable silence here is spread

On every hand, and Nature might be dead.
A lonely exile, here I sit and weep,
And far above, bright Moon, I see thee sweep.

From Earth’s creation till the skies shall parch

And she dissolve, thou circlest Heaven’s high arch:
Saw’st thou the laurels on Armenia’s brow?
And dost behold her hopeless sorrows now?

Mournful as I! I wonder dost thou see

How she is ground by heels of tyranny!
And do thine eyes with bitter tear-drops smart
When barbèd arrows pierce her through the heart

Thy heart is stone, thy pity stark and cold,

For fields of innocent blood thou dost behold
Without a word, and o’er Armenia’s land
Thy nightly compass of the dome hast spanned
With all the brightness that was thine of old.

* * *

O Lake, make answer! Why be silent more?

Wilt not lament with one whose heart is sore?
And you, ye Zephyrs, hurl the waters high
That I may feed them from a mourner’s eye!
 The Lake of Van

“Cleanse from thy lute the rust that soils its string;
Hasten thee back, and, as thou goest, sing
Such gladsome lays as yet may re-inspire
Hearts that are dead with ever tameless fire.
His Will is done; the time is here. The Day
Dawns; and the Morning Star, so God doth say,
Shall be thy sign.”
Raffi.

A garden once, luxuriantly fair,

Now is Armenia choked with thorn and tare:
Thou who hast seen her fortunes wax and wane,
Tell me, I pray thee! Must she thus remain?

Must this unhappy nation ever be

By foreign princes held in slavery?
Is the Armenian and his stricken race
Counted unworthy in God’s judgment-place?

Comes there a day, comes there a season that

Shall hail a flag on topmost Ararat,
Calling Armenians, wheresoe’er they roam,
To seek once more their loved and beauteous home?

Hard tho’ it be, O heavenly Ruler, raise

Armenia’s spirit, and her heart’s dark ways
Light with Thy knowledge: understanding so
The mystery of life, her works shall show
That all she does is ordered to Thy praise.

* * *

Then suddenly the surface of the lake

Grew luminous, and from its depths did break
A lovely maid that bore a lantern and
A lyre of shining ivory in her hand.
Was she an Angel in a strange disguise?
Was she a Houri fled from Paradise?
Nay, rather was she of the form and hue
Of the Armenian Muses!
“Tell me true,
O Muse,” I cried, “our people’s destiny!
Speak of the Now and of the Yet-to-be!”

Then the sweet heavenly Spirit made reply,

“Wipe, O sad youth, the salt tears from thine eye!
I bring glad tidings: better days shall break,
New days of joy, that carry in their wake
The reign of God, Whose will is free and just:
A Golden Age again shall gild the dust!

“Armenia’s Muses shall awake anew,

And her Parnassus bloom with vernal hue,
And the bright car Apollo whirls on high
Shall sweep the shadows from her clouded sky.

“For many a day, like thee, we mourned aloud

While the thick darkness wrapped her in its shroud:
Now, O belovèd, may the weeping cease,—
To us has come the olive branch of peace!

“Cleanse from thy lute the rust that soils its string;
Hasten thee back, and, as thou goest, sing
Such joyful lays as yet may re-inspire
Hearts that are dead with new and tameless fire.
His Will is done; the Time is here; the Day
Dawns; and the Morning Star, so God doth say,
Shall be thy sign.”
Then darkness fell again;
The vision fled; but long there did remain
An echo of the thrilling voice, that blended
With the wild waves whose depths she had descended;
And flowery perfumes filled the air like rain.

O message dear, and sweet prophetic strain!

What happiness is come to us,—but Oh!
Beautiful Muse, yet one thing would we know—
Can a dead corpse rise up and live again?

Translated by G. M. Green.
 SPRING

By MUGGURDICH BESHIGTASHLIAN

(1829–1868)

O little breeze, how fresh and sweet

Thou blowest in the morning air!
Upon the flowers caressingly,
And on the gentle maiden’s hair.
But not my country’s breath thou art:
Blow elsewhere, come not near my heart!

O little bird among the trees,

The sweetness of thy joyful voice
Entrances all the Hours of Love,
And makes the listening woods rejoice.
But not my country’s bird thou art:
Sing elsewhere, come not near my heart!

How peacefully thou murmurest,

O gentle, limpid little brook;
Within thy mirror crystal-bright
The rose and maiden bend to look.
But not my country’s brook thou art:
Flow elsewhere—come not near my heart!

Although Armenia’s breeze and bird

Above a land of ruins fly;
Although through mourning cypress groves
Armenia’s turbid stream flows by,—
They are the sighing of her heart,
And never shall from mine depart!
THE FOX
 FOLK SONG

The fox ran up into the mill,

He raised his paws, and danced his fill.
Brave Master Fox, ’tis but your due,
In all the world there’s none like you!

A peck of corn he ground that day,

Which on his back he bore away.

He ate the village chickens brown,

And trod the upland cornfields down.

The fox lies on his shaggy side,

His paws stretched out before him wide.

Sable and fox this fall we’ll catch,

And for my son I’ll make a match.

Alas, this year no price they made:—

My Hovhannes unmarried stayed!
 The Vision of Rosiphelee, Princess of Armenia

From Gower’s “Confesio Amantis.”

The Vision of Rosiphelee, Princess of Armenia

“Sche syh comende vnder þe linde

A womman vp an hors behinde.
The hors on which sche rod was blak,
Al lene and galled on þe back.”

John Gower.
 THE TALE OF ROSIPHELEE

From the “Confessio Amantis” by

JOHN GOWER

(Died 1408)

Of Armenye, I rede þus,

Ther was a king, which Herupus
Was hote, and he a lusti Maide
To dowhter hadde, and as men saide
Hire name was Rosiphelee;
Which þo was of gret renomee,
ffor sche was boþe wys and fair,
And scholde ben hire fader hair.
Bot sche hadde o defalte of Slowþe
Towardes loue, and þat was rowþe;
ffor so wel cowde noman seie,
Which mihte sette hire in þe weie
Of loues occupacion
Thurgh non ymaginacion;
That scole wolde sche noght knowe.
And þus sche was on of þe slowe
As of such hertes besinesse,
Til whanne Venus þe goddesse,
Which loues court haþ forto reule,
Haþ broght hire into betre reule,
fforþ wiþ Cupide and wiþ his miht:
ffor þei merueille how such a wiht,
Which þo was in hir lusti age,
Desireþ nother Mariage
Ne ȝit þe loue of paramours,
Which euere haþ be þe comvn cours
Amonges hem þat lusti were.
So was it schewed after þere:
ffor he þat hihe hertes loweþ
Wiþ fyri Dartes whiche he þrovreþ,
Cupide, which of loue is godd,
In chastisinge haþ mad a rodd
To dryue awei hir wantounesse;
So þat wiþinne a while, I gesse,
Sche hadde on such a chance sporned,
That al hire mod was ouertorned,
Which ferst sche hadde of slow manere:
ffor þus it fell, as þou schalt hiere.
Whan come was þe Monþe of Maii,
Sche wolde walke vpon a dai,
And þat was er þe Sonne Ariste;
Of wommen bot a fewe it wiste,
And forþ sche wente priuely
Vnto þe Park was faste by,
Al softe walkende on þe gras,
Til sche cam þer þe Launde was,
Thurgh which þer ran a gret riuere.
It þoghte hir fair, and seide, Here
I wole abide vnder þe schawe:
And bad hire wommen to wiþdrawe,
And þer sche stod al one stille,
To þenke what was in hir wille.
Sche sih þe swote floures springe,
Sche herde glade foules singe,
Sche sih þe bestes in her kinde,
The buck, þe do, þe hert, þe hinde,
The madle go wiþ þe femele;
And so began þer a querele
Betwen loue and hir oghne herte,
ffro which sche couþe noght asterte.
And as sche caste hire yhe aboute,
Sche syh clad in o suite a route
Of ladis, wher þei comen ryde
Along vnder þe wodes syde.
On faire amblende hors þei sete,
That were al whyte, fatte and grete,
And euerichon þei ride on side:
The Sadles were of such a Pride,
Wiþ Perle and gold so wel begon,
So riche syh sche neuere non:
In kertles and in Copes riche
Thei weren cloþed, alle liche,
Departed euene of whyt and blew;
Wiþ alle lustes þat sche knew
Thei were enbrouded oueral.
Here bodies weren long and smal,
The beaute faye vpon her face
Non erþly þing it may desface;
Corones on here hed þei beere,
As ech of hem a qweene weere,
That al þe gold of Cresus halle
The leste coronal of alle
Ne mihte haue boght after þe worþ:
Thus come þei ridende forþ.
The kinges dowhter, which þis syh,
ffor pure abaissht drowh hire adryh
And hield hire clos vnder þe bowh,
And let hem passen stille ynowh;
ffor as hire þoghte in hire avis,
To hem þat were of such a pris
Sche was noght worþi axen þere,
ffro when þei come or what þei were.
Bot leuere þan þis worldes good
Sche wolde haue wist hou þat it stod,
And putte hire hed alitel oute;
And as sche lokede hire aboute,
Sche syh comende vnder þe linde
A womman vp an hors behinde.
The hors on which sche rod was blak,
Al lene and galled on þe back,
And haltede, as he were encluyed,
Wherof þe womman was annvied;
Thus was þe hors in sori plit,
Bot for al þat a sterre whit
Amiddes in þe front he hadde.
Hir Sadel ek was wonder badde,
In which þe wofull womman sat,
And natheles þer was wiþ þat
A riche bridel for þe nones
Of gold and preciouse Stones.
Hire cote was somdiel totore;
Aboute hir middel twenty score
Of horse haltres and wel mo
Ther hyngen ate þo.
Thus whan sche cam þe ladi nyh,
Than tok sche betre hiede and syh
This womman fair was of visage,
ffreyssh, lusti, ȝong and of tendre age;
And so þis ladi, þer sche stod,
Beþoghte hire wel and vnderstod
That þis, which com ridende þo,
Tidinges couþe telle of þo,
Which as sche sih tofore ryde,
And putte hir forþ and preide abide,
And seide, Ha, Suster, let me hiere,
What ben þei, þat now riden hiere,
And ben so richeliche arraied?
This womman, which com so esmaied,
Ansuerde wiþ ful softe speche,
And seiþ, Ma Dame, I schal ȝou teche.
These ar of þo þat whilom were
Seruantz to loue, and trowþe beere,
Ther as þei hadde here herte set.
ffare wel, for I mai noght be let:
Ma Dame, I go to mi seruise,
So moste I haste in alle wise;
fforþi, ma Dame, ȝif me leue,
I mai noght longe wiþ ȝou leue.
Ha, goode Soster, ȝit I preie,
Tell me whi ȝe ben so beseie,
And wiþ þese haltres þus begon.
Ma Dame, whilom I was on
That to mi fader hadde a king;
Bot I was slow, and for no þing
Me liste noght to loue obeie,
And þat I now ful sore abeie.
ffor I whilom no loue hadde,
Min hors is now so fieble and badde,
And al totore is myn arai;
And euery ȝeer þis freisshe Maii
These lusti ladis ryde aboute,
And I mot nedes suie here route
In þis manere as ȝe now se,
And trusse here haltres forþ wiþ me,
And am bot as here horse knaue.
Non oþer office I ne haue,
Hem þenkþ I am worþi nomore,
ffor I was slow in loues lore,
Whan I was able forto lere,
And wolde noght þe tales hiere
Of hem þat covþen loue teche.
Now tell me þanne, I ȝov beseche,
Wherof þat riche bridel serueþ.
Wiþ þat hire chere awei sche swerueþ,
And gan to wepe, and þus sche tolde:
This bridel, which ȝe nov beholde
So riche vpon myn horse hed,—
Ma Dame, afore, er I was ded,
Whan I was in mi lusti lif,
Ther fel into myn herte a strif
Of loue, which me overcom,
So þat þerafter hiede I nom,
And þoghte I wolde loue a kniht:
That laste wel a fourtenyht,
ffor it no lengere mihte laste,
So nyh my lif was ate laste.
Bot now, allas, to late war
That I ne hadde him loued ar:
ffor deþ cam so in haste bime,
Er I þerto hadde eny time,
That it ne mihte ben achieued.
Bot for al þat I am relieued,
Of þat mi will was good þerto,
That loue soffreþ it be so
That I schal swiche a bridel were.
Now haue ȝe herd al myn ansuere:
To godd, ma Dame, I ȝou betake,
And warneþ alle for mi sake,
Of loue þat þei ben noght ydel,
And bidd hem þenke vpon mi brydel.
And wiþ þat word al sodeinly
Sche passeþ, as it were a Sky,
Al clene out of þis ladi sihte.
And þo for fere hire herte afflihte,
And seide to hirself, Helas!
I am riht in þe same cas:
Bot if I liue after þis day,
I schal amende it, if I may.
And þus homward þis lady wente,
And changede al hire ferste entente,
Wiþinnne hire herte and gan to swere
That sche none haltres wolde bere.
 THE SONG OF THE VULTURE

By ELIA DEMIRJIBASHIAN

(1851–1908)

A great black bird like to a great black cloud

Hovers forever o’er my spirit bowed.
He is my guardian angel, but alack!
Darker than night he is—than hell more black.

A fearful-looking bird, with wings wide spread,

Ill-omened as the Devil, and as dread;
He hovers round my wasted body, till
I wonder if I yet have life or will.

Upon his wings no spot of white appears,

His plumage black sheds horror down, and fears.
Black are his talons—sharp, like daggers fell;
And like a hound I hear him howl and yell.

His wide-spread pinions hide the light from me;

Heaven dark, and earth a dungeon black I see.
All is in shadow—air and earth and skies—
He even hides the lightning from my eyes.

I cannot see the paleness of my face,

I cannot see the maiden’s smiling grace;
Black is the lake, the stars and lilies dark;
What was that cry? The bird’s dread calling!—Hark!

I seem to totter on the brink of hell

And think the evil fowl my corpse can smell.
I seem to hear the goblins fight with him—
Away with thee!—ours is this booty grim!”

But he is cruel, strong, and merciless—

This great black bird;—he heeds not my distress.
Ten years I’ve lived beneath his deadly wings—
Ten years unceasingly my death-bell rings.

Ten years ago one night it came to pass

On Moda’s rock I sat and dreamed; alas,
My foe came to me—Carnal was his name:
He shouted, “Vain are Life and Love and Fame!”

Youthful I was, and armed with Love and Hope

I struggled. “Oh, my soul, arise and cope
With this thy foe, and vanquish him,” I cried.
But ’twas in vain, as I full soon espied.

My sun and joy since then are on the wane.

My foe cries out, “I, only I, shall reign!
O’er all the universe none rules but me!”—
Then rose a Siren’s voice alluringly....

Nirvana and the flesh held me that hour:

God was asleep—my soul was in their power.
Then on the moon I saw a spot appear;—
It grew, and grew ... my heart turned sick with fear.

I was as dead. The carrion-eating bird

Had left that heavenly corpse—the moon—allured
To earth by me. It sought my bosom where
The image of Christ crucified lay bare.

Beneath those evil wings I hopelessly

Roam over the earth;—my guardian angel he;
No more the cross I wear, nor in my breast
 Dwells holy faith; ’tis death: death without rest.

Like to the moon, whether I wax or wane

Still am I lifeless, cursed with this bane.
I give the vulture of my flesh to tear,
And shiver when the name of “love” I hear.

While yet I live he is devouring me:

I cannot bear this pain—Oh, set me free!
I am not dead—Love still dwells with me here.
I am alive—and some call me the “Ner.”1

Ah, gruesome bird, art thou not yet content

These ten long years my body to have rent?
Ah, vulture black—black earth and ebon sky,
’Tis time that I should lay me down and die.

1 “Ner”—the Antichrist, concerning whom the Armenians have many traditions. ↑

DANCE SONG1
 FOLK SONG

“I have loved your winsome face,

And your never-fading grace.
If they give you not to me
May God send them black disgrace!”

“Mountain sorrel, fresh with dew,

Sweets I send and honey new;
Is a dainty maid like me
Fit to wed a youth like you?”

“You are arch, my little maid,

In four plaits your hair you braid,
Make no more pretence to me—
For you love me, I’m afraid!”

“Drive your plough ahead, and go;

Underneath it thistles grow.
You are reckless, young, and wild—
She is mad would wed you so!”

“Near your house a field I’ll sow

And I’ll stone the ill-starred crow.
When I have the girl I love
I’ll let all my folly go.”

“On its way the water flows,

Washing with its waves the rose.
My beloved amidst the youths,
Like a mighty fortress shows.”

“In the vineyard you have grown,

Where the melon plants are sown,
Day and night upon my lute,
You I sing, and you alone.”

“Sing a minstrel’s song to me,

Or the blackbird’s rhapsody;
 All your praises I deserve,
And my bridegroom you shall be!”

The Lady and the Minstrel

“The minstrel’s love stole out unseen,

With burning thoughts of her belov’d;
All through the woods so dark and green,
Seeking, and seeking him, she roved.”
Raffi.

1 Haberban. ↑
 BALLAD

By RAFFI

Dark forests clothe the mountain-side,

And o’er that mountain’s lofty head
The heavens bend their arches wide,
And, dome-like, round its summit spread.

A castle stood upon the steep,

Enchanted by a witch’s spell;
A maiden wept within the keep,
Bound by the chains of slav’ry fell.

Alone and sad, the maiden fair

Sat in her dark and narrow room.
No hope had she, but dire despair
Had worn her heart with thoughts of gloom.

A minstrel passed—as it befell—

A singer, singing sweetest strains;
He broke the witch’s evil spell,
And loosed the gentle maiden’s chains.

She ran to him and kissed his face,

And said, “How I have longed for thee!
God, in His mercy and His grace,
Hath sent thee here to set me free!”

And when, above the mountain steep,

The moon shone out her silver light,
And when the stars began to peep,
 Twinkling and scatt’ring jewels bright,

The minstrel’s love stole out unseen,

With burning thoughts of her belov’d;
All through the woods so dark and green,
Seeking, and seeking him, she roved.

A hut there was within that wood,

Meet dwelling for some dervish old;
All lined with moss and leaves, it stood
Protected from the rain and cold.

The minstrel lived within this nook,

And sang alone beneath the trees.
His friend—Firdausi’s wondrous book,
His comrades—Sadi and Hafiz.

The Houri of the castle there

Spent many happy days and nights—
Immortal souls in Jennet1 fair
Have never tasted such delights.

He wiped the tears by sorrow shed,

And healed the wounds by sorrow wrought;
Like captive from a prison fled,
Her cares and woes she soon forgot.

Broken and aged was her sire;

A mighty Prince, the castle’s lord,
To satisfy his heart’s desire,
Had reft her from him with his sword.

The Prince held office high at court,

And countless women, bright as day,
Lived in his harem’s vile resort,
 And slaves, more than my tongue can say.

His women, guarded day and night,

Caged in with iron bars he keeps;
But LOVE, more strong than despot’s might,
Breaks through that cage, those bars o’erleaps.

1 The Paradise of Mohammed, where the souls of the blest are waited upon by beautiful
houris, and fed with delicious fruits. ↑
NO BIRD CAN REACH THE MOUNTAIN’S CREST

By HOVHANNES COSTANIANTZ

No bird can reach the mountain’s crest.

There blow the winds that never rest;
And ‘midst the stars that crown the height,
Saint Gregory’s fair lamp shines bright.1
Ah, gentle brother, sweet and brave,
That Light thy sword and spirit save!

How many rills the mountain yields!

Those rills are streams, that dew the fields.
My brother sweet, those rushing streams
Are like my longings and my dreams.
Happy the maid that loveth thee!
When shall thy heart’s desire be?

See, in the South a tempest breaks—

tempest howls, the leaflet quakes;
The bluebell hangs its petals bright,
The cock cries out with all his might.
Like showers of gold comes down the rain:—
Why comes my love not home again?

The Star of Light begins his course,

The brave one mounts upon his horse.
He drives his spurs into its flanks,
And rides away to join the ranks.
Happy the maid that loveth thee,
When shall thy heart’s desire be?

There comes no news from far away,

 Our brave ones rest not from the fray.
’Tis long that sleep my eyes doth flee—
Our foemen press unceasingly.
’Tis long for sleep I vainly pray:
There comes no news from far away.

1 Above the summit of Aragatz, the mountain that faces Ararat on the far side of the
plain, a weird light is sometimes visible, traditionally called the Lamp of Saint Gregory the
Illuminator. ↑