The way was heavy and the night was dark,
And yet we survived
Both sorrow and gloom.
Through the ages we go and gaze at the stark
Steep heights of our land-
The Armenian Highlands.
We carry from old our treasure,
Vast as the sea,
Brought into life
By the great soul of our people,
In our lofty land-
The Armenian Highlands.
How many times
The savage hordes
From the blazing desert
Tore and tormented
Our caravan
In our blood-smeared land-
The Armenian Highlands.
Yet, plundered and scattered,
Our caravan
Sought its way out
From among the rocks
Counting the scars of its countless wounds
In our mournful land-
The Armenian Highlands.
And we gaze with dolorous, longing eyes
At the earth in its gloom,
At the distant stars;
Ah, when will the dawn break at last
Over our green
Armenian Highlands.
Back to Hovhannes Tumanyan
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