Mer siro ashun (Осень нашей любви) ( посвящается ТЕМА)
Rouben Hakhverdyan MER SIRO ASHOUN@
du karcum es ayd andzrevn e artasvum patuhanid ayd apsosanqi xosqern en glorvum katil-katil glorvum en u hosum en, apakuc tapvum en cac ays xosqer@ vor lsvum en im yergi mej ushacac
um e petq xostovananq@, apsosanq@ ushacac ser@ qo mi haneluk er u gaxtniq er chbacvac da guce ashnan katakn er - terevnern ein dexnac caruxum lur artasvum er mi axchik menak kangnac
[chorus] mer siro ashun@ el yerbeq chi krknvi ev ancyaln amen angam ashnan het kayceli u patuhanid lur kartasvi u patuhanid lur kartasvi
yes hima nor haskanum em - ancjal@ het ches beri ays amen@ hatucumn e im gorcac hin mexqeri ayn axjik@ ev ashun@ baxtnerin vor korcrin da jahel im xentutyunn er vor yerbeq indz chen neri
yes gitem yerjankutyun@ mi angam e aycelum isk heto yerb heranum e aycetomsn e ir toxnum u heto amboxj kjanqum mer menq nran enq voronum ayn hascen vor na toxnum e yerbeq voch voq chi gtnum
[chorus]
*** THE AUTUMN OF OUR LOVE
Do you think the rain’s been drumming on your window all day long? It’s the words of my repentance, falling down drop by drop. See them, rolling down the glass and down into the endless brine; Words that only you can hear in this belated song of mine.
What is this confession now, overdue regret, - for what? Love has always been a riddle that I never can decode. It was autumn that was mocking, slapping me with faded leaves, And the girl that kept on weeping silently among the trees.
Only now I understand: the past shall not be back again. It’s for sins that I’ve committed that I’m being made to pay. For that weeping girl, that autumn are the fortune that I’ve lost. Heedless deeds of wild youth is what I now regret the most.
We all know that happiness can only come a single time. It then promptly disappears, leaves its business card behind. We then seek it everywhere, we go on looking all our lives, But the address on the card is one that no man ever finds.