Full of wounds, I am a fedayee
Wandering, I have no home,
Instead of my lover, I embrace my gun,
Nowhere have I had a peaceful sleep.
The mourning and weeping of the bloodied land,
Called me from my cloistered life.
The love of my tortured fatherland
Made me unafraid of danger.
I was dubed a fedayee,
I became a soldier of an ideal:
Let the rivers of blood I have shed
Be an example to the Armenian soldier
I was crucified as a fedayee
For our sacred principles,
Let the blood that I have shed
Strengthen the Armenian soldier.
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