Армяне боевой дух

[Verse 1]
We carry a mountain where the road runs flat,
Ararat in our hearts, no map can take that.
A duduk breathes low through the evening air,
And every lost name still lives in our prayer.
From stone-walled rooms to a far-off shore,
We keep the old words and we make them soar.

[Chorus]
We bend, but we don’t break—hear the pomegranate drum,
Armenian spirit: wherever we roam, we come from home.
Through every mile, through every year,
The mountain stays; the roots stay here.

[Verse 2]
At the table, bread is torn, then passed around,
Grandmother’s stories make a kingdom from sound.
The alphabet shines like embers in the dark,
Each letter a doorway, each song a spark.
We’ve said goodbye, but we’ve kept the thread,
A living voice in the words we’ve said.

[Bridge]
Let the whole world hear what the stones remember:
A people can endure and still carry tenderness.
We are not only what we’ve survived—
We are the songs that keep arriving.

[Outro]
Ararat in our hearts, wherever we roam;
We carry our people, we carry our home.