written by: Anahit Arustamyan
Birds! The sky is an open eye watching your and my roads.
Birds! Are you white sails left the oceans?
You were probably words, sweet or bitter, in the sky's azure gloves.
You were words turned to snow-white wings of flying flocks.
I won't cry for you as I have your voices in my talks.
Time is a sailor whose boat rushes and never stops.
Birds! I won't cry for you as I have your roads and my words.
Birds! Will I be one of you somewhere blue and soft?