We Are Our Mountains

The author, Meghedi Melody Nazarian (right), seated at the steps of the “We are Our Mountains” monument in

BY MEGHEDI MELODY NAZARIAN

We are our mountains they say,
But where are our mountains today?
Ararat and Masis, on tortured lands they lay.
When will they come home? When is that day?

We are our mountains they say,
But why are they always taken away?
The storied hills of Artsakh, under rubble they lay.
When will we meet again? When is that day?

We are our mountains they say,
Etched in our hearts, we know no other way.
And though we can’t touch them or walk on their paths,
For them we yearn, we cry, we sing, we pray.

We are our mountains they say,
Because on those mountains there lay
The blood and sweat of too many fallen heroes
Who have given their lives for us to stay,
For us to be able to say,
We are our mountains today.

We are our mountains they say,
And it will always be that way,
No matter how many times they drive us away,
We will reclaim our lands and sing again.
No matter how many times they tear us apart,
We will come together and dance again.
No matter how many times they destroy our faith,
We will find our way back and pray again.

For you can take us out of the mountains,
But from us you can never take the mountains away.
FOR WE ARE OUR MOUNTAINS
Yesterday, today, forever, and always.

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