THIN my heart there is a maid
Would fain, with earnest will,
Recall an old, forgotten tune;
But it eludes her still.
Within my heart there is a child
Who waits, with longing dumb
And endless hope, for somebody
Who does not, does not come.
There is an old man in my heart
Who calls eternally
To someone very far away
Who never makes reply.
(Arshag Tchobanian)
More Poetry from Arshag Tchobanian:
Arshag Tchobanian Poems based on Topics: Hope- Lullaby For Mother Armenia (Arshag Tchobanian Poems)
- To The Moon (Arshag Tchobanian Poems)
- The Bond (Arshag Tchobanian Poems)
- Happiness (Arshag Tchobanian Poems)
- The Wind (Arshag Tchobanian Poems)