Your warm hands are still a safe place to cry,
you are as beautiful as the rain, my heart is full of complaints, I
am still in this commotion, in this hatred of the night,
me and the sparrow in the house, it is our habit to see you
at the window, I still sit waiting for you,
you who see myself alone and alone without you, I still
sit waiting for you,
you who see myself alone and alone without you,
we were two windows, you said that you should Lets die,
the wall is all destroyed, but we are still captives
, we are still like the swamp of the metamorphosis of the desert mirror,
we are the ones who wanted to catch the sun with our hands,
my cries are deprived, do something, my eyes come, help
me,
when I reached you, the deer was still breathing
, I was still swallowing, as if there was sadness in his eyes, the
ghazal was not crying, he was not crying, in my night without light.
And you were also the story, from star to
acacia, from star to acacia now, but now its time to go, the
road screams my name
, now but its time to go, the
road screams my name,
now I stayed, and I remember the dirt and wet alleys, the
house that is no longer ours for a long time
, if Im quiet and tired, if Im far away from you
, lean on me, Im a stranger, Im a proud mountain behind me.
I still sit in the window, waiting for you,
I see myself alone without you, I still
sit at the window, I still sit waiting for you,
I see myself alone without you.
