On these lonely hills
My heartís weeping in sadness,
Longing for you still.

In the clear night sky
All the stars brightly glitter
Like tears in my eyes.

Past these neon lights
Sleepless and alone I walk
On the rainy night.

With this poem I bring
A silver key to your heart--
But where is the lock?

How small the world seems,
As I watch from this mountain
Tiny cars go by.

                        October 11, 1999
                      --Alexander Shaumyan