Armenian Kingdom of Cilicia (Kilikya) When doors of hope are opened wide, And dreary winter flees away, Our beauteous Armenia Beams forth in glad and smiling day; When swallows to their nests return And trees put on their leaves so bright I yearn for my Cilicia, The land where first I saw the light. There comes to each a time of life When all our hopes have gone at last, The poor soul longs and strives no more; And dwells alone upon the past; The, when my breaking harp, unstrung Shall sing to hope a last good-night, Ill sleep in my Cilicia, The land where I first saw the light.
Posted on: Sat, 20 Dec 2014 22:28:45 +0000
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