
Color me red.
Red as the juicy pomegranate
that is rough yet sweet,
much like the lives of my people.
Red as the innocent blood
of my 1.5 million ancestors
pulsing through my veins.
Red as the sweet wine
poured in celebration
after Tehlirian slayed the demon.
Color me blue.
Blue as the radiant sky
that saw the rise, fall, and resurgence
of my great civilization.
Blue as Van and Sevan,
whose pristine waters
are intermingled with our tears.
Blue as the blue bird
singing in the branches,
songs both happy and sad.
Color me orange.
Orange as the tranquil sunset
embracing Mount Ararat
in all its glory.
Orange as the ripe apricots
blooming in the highlands,
prepared for a fruitful harvest.
Orange as the eternal flame
of anguish and remembrance
burning at Tsitsernakaberd.
Color me Armenian.
Armenian as my steadfast faith
I have kept alive and thriving
for over a millennium and a half.
Armenian as the mountains of Artsakh
echoing with a myriad cries
of profound sorrow and loss.
Armenian as our relentless spirit
that carried us through tribulations
and made us who we are today.
Once again Adrian has brought me to tears. What a hauntingly beautiful tribute to our land and our people.
This is beautiful. Wonderful