Armenian spirit,
ever escaping the grasp of my heart,
I long to feel your ancient essence, colored in blood,
Yet, in defeat and failures you escape us, unworthy of the call of our forefathers.
The sense of my ancestors has become fragmented and lost in the tempter’s winds,
My ancient self encaged as a noble eagle without flight with no hope of ascent, bound as a fierce lion without the freedom to chase his prey,
Release me, Armenian spirit, which flees from my breast, so that I may sense myself,
the true nature of redeemed man, righteous, holy, and mighty, and the pride that accompanies it,
the histories and the legends that I have become.
Armenian spirit,
Return to me,
So that feeling you I may feel once more as a man in my own skin,
Primordial as the mountains from which I have come,
As I carry the name and face of our patriarchal father and progenitor upon my own.