Tell me about the sadness of the green grass with this sunset, tell me about the sorrow of the green grass, tell me the sorrow of the distressed greens, tell me the burnt thoughts of purple, see the secret of the imagination of the burnt people, tell me about the passion of the bud, the passion of the
bud is gone, the joy of the bud is gone, the memory of the old tree , O wind of the new spring, tell me about the bartenders of the Sabuh
Tarbkhaneh, from the butlers of the Sabuh Tarbkhaneh, with the sad Khamoshan of the association, tell
me the good news. Who had a hundred Syrian flowers on his chest, Wayne the wave of blood, Wayne the wave of blood that beats it in the mouth, say that the
broken cedar has made the impression of our heart on the water, the broken cedar has made the impression of our heart on the water, this story has told the heartbreaker mirror, tell the water that
has gone and will not come back to the dry atmosphere with eyes that are more than the thirst of the jasmine, say
that the red and green became the shade of purple and bruised , tell me the black cedar from the sunset of the grassTell me about the sunset of the grass, tell me about the sunset of the grass.
