Karen Kirovakan Volk - Kirovakan

This is Kirovakan, where the memories are breathing, Through the streets and fade to scenes. A park with five benches where we met, Now walking alone with the cold of night defeat. Silence falls, no sound in the air, I’m thinking about Bangladesh as waiting there. But what can we do? This is Kirovakan. The sun is hiding and it rains again. It rains again in this ghost of the city, Where the shadows of dreams continue to depend. Laughter feedback, friends’ votes, It rains again yes it rains again. We cross the light of Samvelon with the fog, But the warmth of Khinkalon feels closer today. The old factories are standing, the center was cold, I swear that I will not forget this place as gold. Congo and memories, wild as a flame, He lost this jungle, everything feels the same. But what can we do? This is Kirovakan. The sun is hiding and it rains again. It rains again, in the heart of this place, Where memories are left, time cannot delete. Tears and laughter through shadows and pain, It rains again yes it rains again. It’s not a big place, just a village of fog, Where the dreams we built still in some way exist. Where strangers and travelers come and go, A little Switzerland, dusted in the snow. But here we are standing, hugging quietly, Where the rain falls stable, fill space. And what can we do? This is Kirovakan. The sun is hiding and it rains again. It rains again, the last heart rate, Washing memories, relieving pain. Although I will leave tomorrow, I will stay tonight How it rains again, yes, it rains again. © 2024 Karen Kirovakan Volkhi Virtual Church.