Darius wrote: “Armenia trembled.”
I carved: “Armenia remembered the route home.” behistunskaa nadpis- armenia
When the chisel slipped—deliberately, they said—I left a crack running down the neck of the kneeling rebel. The crack is still there. Rain found it. Then lichen. Then a British officer in 1835, pressing paper against the stone, copying my master’s lie. Darius wrote: “Armenia trembled