  O’er the mountains high he went, Love, love! In the meadows above I seek for my love. With a weary sigh he went. Love, love! To fight thou art gone While I stay here alone. Neither quail nor partridge stirred. Love, love! In the meadows above I look for my love And he left without a word. Love, love! To fight thou art gone While I stay here alone. Like a flower’s fragrance sweet He came past, and vanished fleet. I beheld him and I loved— But we never more shall meet. When my lover rode away Not a farewell did I say; None there is to help him now— Sourb Carapet, |
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