Don’t you mistake us, with your wild and savage tribes,
Our country’s mangled, yet holy and refined.
Babylon has been our enemy, you eye.
A field lies upon it, and nothing beside.
Robust is our soul, brood of centuries,
Long has our heart witnessed irony.
Long has our country faced fire and ailing
Howl’s there every book and grief each ditty…
We’re debased not as serfs but as bruised eagles,
Aloft from the vile, honest towards evils.
Barbarians will come and depart untraced,
Our noble creed will remain undead.
Never will our soul grasp sloth or debauch,
Temple is our country, and sacred is each rock.
The Egyptian pyramids will succumb to the sands
Our country will prevail forever.
Like a phoenix we’ll emerge from fire
With new elegance, a glorious pyre.
Be daring my heart with enduring hope
Stand proud like our Ararat mounts…
Written by: Vahan Terian
Translated by: Rob Ert