GRISH DAVTYAN

THE LISBON FIVE

Sargis

Sedrakin

Arai

Simon

They were afraid

They threw themselves into self-sacrifice,

death avoided

They became immortal…

This is a pentagon of hearts

And it’s spread out

A geographer in a disputed territory,

That the sacred motherland was holy,

Sprinkled with the holy blood of children,

Abandoned, abandoned, abandoned.

Now it’s affecting an entire nation

Untouched by Genocide

With the tenderness of corpses, corpses…

A spirit of five tevans is a measure of heart,

Cufflinks,

That broke through

The silence of the conspiracy is ungrateful,

The heart of heaven is broken

A tear to squeeze

In return for that father and the flood of blood,

That poured out and baptized the land native

With the blood of fathers and mothers,

With the blood of sons and daughters,

And with the warm blood of a whole generation,

That he did not greet the sun with his birth.

The five-pointed star of Lisbon,

What is the explosion?

Five times the same heart

And hearts

of our hearts

Hearts of a whole nation

One heart became five hearts…

And the thunder

The sheer volume of the response was heartbreaking

It will explode

That thundered in our hearts,

It still resonates

In the holy piles of unburied martyrs

Abandoned children, abandoned country, abandoned people

Depopulated in the homeland,

Which tomb is now

Lok tomb, the cradle of the past

Denied of the motherland, motherland…

Five willing and self-sacrificing spirits,

In the self-igniting flames

Five hearts were sacrificed,

What was one heart, five hearts,

They were stigmatized by the great conspiracy of silence

To all heartless people,

They made a confession

With global interest.

Five fists one ram,

What a bomb has lit in our hearts

The proclamation of the holy demand national,

To bury the martyrs of our saint

Denied in the holy homeland.

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