Harifa, hosts Guest of the year and your backs are shaking because the wave is not hazard, not death You heard a sound of cold and teeth Tonight I am lending Put your account beside the cup What do you say? Was the magic? Farhangi Farhangi This red is not after dawn Harifas listening to the cold winter slap and Qandil Sepehr is a dead or live field to the coffin of darkness not in the death of the night.
