It is enough, O Lord, take us back to our lands and homes,
And even don't let the enemy wander around like us.
To the animal you give prey and to the birds a warm nest,
While to the innocent, O Lord, give a corner for them to dwell.
Let the rich and the king enjoy palaces and all,
But, O Lord, make us worthy of our nameless cottages only.
There is no rest nor sleep under foreign terraces cold,
More than seven days indeed you should never anybody host.
Let your blessings, O Lord, befall on our provisions again,
So that foreigners may eat from our abundant tables again.
Along with our longing hearts old prayers have also gone dry,
Without that noble incense which kept smoking for Your name.

Laughters resemble cries when one's house doesn't echo
And tears become humiliating when there is no garret window.
Make it such, O Lord, that each hearth begins within his holy home,
Never going off like a candle when confronting life's wicked wind blows.
Make it such that each in his own turn suddenly
Feels on his shoulders the load of his burden sweet.
Let the parents of the young see only the homes of the fatherland
And the aged in their homes close their eyes eternally.

Translated from Armenian by Daniel Janoyan