Friends, how strange, they left this house,
our candle burned, the broken butterfly of
our sabooham, blood is
screaming and screaming in our hearts, the pain of the tavern looks
everywhere, you make a hundred memories
of the people who traveled, happy from this house
to the body, this garment should be the shroud, the cry of
the Abazars, the path depends on the stranger,
woe to the stranger, my friends, my spring flowers left
this house, they went strangely,
friends, what a stranger. They went from this house, our candle was burned
, the butterfly of my companions was burned,
how strange they left, from this house
too, our candle was burned, the butterfly was broken, our sabbaths are blood, there is a cry in our hearts, there is a cry in our hearts, there is a cry in the tavern everywhere, you look around, you
make a hundred memories,
the people who traveled, the joy of this house,
the head to the body, this garment should be a shroud,
the cry of the Abazars is on the way, depending on the stranger,
woe to the stranger, my companions, the flowers of my spring are
gone. They left this house,
strangely, how strange they left, from this house,
our candle was burned, and the butterfly was burned.
