The sound of the reed of fire struck my soul as if someone had set fire to Neysat, I was hidden in the heart of a lifetime of sorrow, the sound of the reed was on it tonight, the sad reed made me hot, fresher than the tulip of the separations, complained and groaned that his soul was on fire, the abandonment of his companions, where are you, my flower? To make such a reed, the patience of my heart, the endurance of my heart.It was nothing but the wailing of the heart, in your love I have passed, to my head, a glance on my eyes, your sorrow, your heart flowed with blood and came out of sight, the voice of the reed says: How did your love become
