🎡 Days in Frankfurt


Across the miles, the long road finally ends,
I step into your home, leave yesterday behind.
A tight embrace, your open arms, your door,
Two brothers standing on this German shore.
The children laugh somewhere beyond the gate,
The house is calm and bright, the light feels like fate.

Underneath the summer sky, so soft and clear,
Every heavy shadow disappears.

Oh, a garden blooming wild and true,
A house that wraps its love around you.
Snow-white hydrangeas gently sway,
Annabelle blossoms light the way.
We share this golden hour beneath the sun,
Three hearts connected β€” woven into one.

Your lovely wife moves softly through the green,
Proudly shows us every peaceful scene.
With patient hands she’s coaxed each flower to rise,
A living poem written in earth and skies.
Apples bend the branches, heavy, sweet,
Sour cherries dance where sun and shadow meet.

Crimson roses burn against the wall,
While white hydrangeas rest like snowfall.
Round the glowing grill the khorovats begins,
Armenian fire calls our kinsmen in.
Tender meat and peppers, eggplant kissed by smoke,
The scent of home in every fragrant note.

We turn the skewers slow beneath the flame,
Stories rising with the coals again.
Four languages drift softly on the breeze β€”
Armenian, Russian, German, English, at ease.
We walk the winding paths in quiet grace,
Old memories lighting up each face.

No matter where we roam, the heart still knows
The taste of heritage, the warmth that grows.
In Frankfurt’s quiet suburb, evening falls,
Yet laughter echoes louder than city walls.

Oh, a garden blooming wild and true,
A house that wraps its love around you.
Snow-white hydrangeas gently sway,
Family moments light the way.
We hold this golden time beneath the sun…
Three hearts forever woven into one.

Three hearts… woven into one…
Home In the garden… we are at home.

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