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“Nagorno Karabakh we sold, without the faintest sigh, We auctioned off our factories until our wealth ran dry, Now we are slaves or exiles, thieving strangers are our lords, For whom our prostrate backs a wide and easy road affords.” — Bextiyar Vahabzede
Nagorno Karabakh we sold, without the faintest sigh,
We auctioned off our factories until our wealth ran dry,
Now we are slaves or exiles, thieving strangers are our lords,
For whom our prostrate backs a wide and easy road affords.