"Survivors"
My feet have sunk in the ground, so deeply, that I think it's a shadow of them while they are passing by the sun. The relentless cold shadows are beating on the organ of the sun, as if bearing a burden of hundred years history on their shoulders. And flowers, perhaps, are the words of silent soil, reminiscent of looking back and moaning of red Earth; that just laid on the Memorial stone. They are echos of what they have passed on...
Dedicated to the centennial anniversary of the Armenian Genocide
