A tired heart, a great pain, a lamb, a pack of
wolves,
a spring and a hundred thousand treasures,
a world of black clouds in the sky,
not a shepherd who heys hey,
not a sympathizer who cries, not a
traveler who stays one day
, not a bird that reads
something with these halfway companions
, the last of the time the wolf
is sitting in ambush with iron teeth, I
have no time to go back,
no heart. I have a lot of kills,
I cant go to step into it
, I will give in to the calamity
, the hand of God will blow them
, I will pass through their world,
I wish they would slaughter us
, if we dont eat, their grief
is a tired heart and a great pain, a sheep, a wolf,
a spring
and a hundred thousand treasures,
a world of black clouds in the sky,
not a shepherd who does hey,
not a sympathizer who cries,
not a traveler who one day. Stay,
not a bird that sings anything,
with these halfway comrades
, the last of all the time, the
wolf is sitting in ambush
with iron teeth,
I dont have time to go back, I dont
have a heart full of killing,
I cant go to step foot in
judgment, I will give in to the calamity
, the hand of God will blow them, I will
pass through their world,
I wish they would slaughter us,
if we didnt eat, their
grief will be slaughtered by God,
I will pass from their world,
I wish they would slaughter us
, if we didnt eat them, their grief is the voice of the
poet (Massoud) Fardmanesh): I
blow the hand
of God, I pass through their world,
I wish they would slaughter us
, if we dont eat, their sorrow
will blow the hand of God, the
hand of God will blow them.
