BY GRISH DAVTIAN
To the Blossoms of Homeland
the Martyrs of
The Armenian Genocide
Committed by the Turks.
Within our hearts, flowers bloom,
Flowers of love in a fragrant room,
Gifted blooms of sacrifice,
In life’s, love’s sweet paradise.
Yet amidst the storm’s cruel test,
Your sacred land with wounds impressed,
Guarded, armed, with the solemn vow,
We’ll fight to free, we’ll honor now.
To rescue from death’s bitter claim,
To reclaim our life’s fair aim,
In our veins, our hearts beat strong,
For our homeland, we belong.
In our hearts, the blossoms thrive,
In your breath, they come alive,
In your speech, in your word,
Our love’s anthem shall be heard.
And they blossomed, petals red,
Watered by the tears we shed,
Nurtured by our life’s embrace,
Purest bloom of our race.
Wide fields within our hearts extend,
A garden where our dreams transcend,
With colors of our life’s design,
Ancestral bond, our holy shrine.
In our hearts, the flowers grace,
In your love, they find their place,
Tokens of our grief and pain,
Yet never shall they wane.