Nightingales' blood dyed in red the mountains

When the evening's flame was all aglow

And the sun sunk into my remembrance

Like a burning rose covered with snow

Oh what words are there to tell your beauty?

Oh what songs are there to ease love's pain?

Like a sigh you perished in spring's dawning grace

And your smile shall never bloom again

Summer died and autumn has enveloped me

Still the rivers' tears reflect your eyes

And the wind plays softly in the reeds at night

Chanting our love's lost paradise

And in me stirs tenderly my mourning

Like young lips with love's ripe wine aglow

Bitter grief turns sweet when I remember you

When you sing in me, Suliko

Life and death and spring and autumn all are you

Bird song has your voice become; I hear

In it unforgotten, graceful, soothing speech

Telling me: It's I, love, I am near

Break not, heart, for what you bear is my life

It is I alone who made it so

For in you I shall remain forever young

Life and love I am: Suliko

(To my mother, Aznavour and Parajanov)