Iran, my mother, my mother, although I miss to see her, a piece of enthusiasm and dandruff of Iran, my mother, the angel dressed in white, the pillow and has made me take me in the arms of the pillow and has made me take me in the arms of Iran, my mother, my mother, I
want to
go to Ashgabat with the smell of her shirt , to Ashgabat herself , to Bistoun and Farhad
, to go with the fragrance of her skirt, to the flower of the desert . Wet hair of Layla and until the crazy cries of
Iran Lady My mother Salar Whatever mother Iran Lady my mother is from everything Mother Iran
Lady My mother Salar Whatever Mother Iran Lady My mother is from everything Mother Iran Lady My mother is my mother Lady Iran Lady My mother If she hugs me I will go to her arms and dream on the back of the
moonlight canvas I want to go with her stories to Sweet memories to Nowruz holidays to the tables of Haftsin
Iran Lady My Mother Salar Whatever Mother Iran Lady My Mother Whatever Mother Iran
Lady My Mother Whatever Mother Iran Lady My Mother Whatever Mother Iran Lady My Mother Iran Lady My Mother Lady Iran Lady My Mother
