Lyrics of Hasrateh Dinar Alireza Assar In English
The spring of musk boils from the water,
woe to the hands of the blond smell of dust,
his hand was trampled on the soil and blood,
our hand became in the pocket of the treasury,
his heart lamented at the thought of children,
our heart became longing for the dinar,
his religion gives a hundred gardens of faith,
our religion smells of sorrow, bread, the
spring of musk boils from the water,
woe to the hands of the blond smell of dust,
his hand was trampled on the soil and blood,
our hand was trampled on the soil. He became the pocket of the treasury,
his heart groaned at the thought of children,
our hearts became longing for dinars,
his religion gives a hundred gardens of faith,
our religion smells of sorrow, bread.
