Thousands of times we fuel us The fire to the border of the ashes but we are the generation of Simorgh, which opens up their ashes The fresh dawn of Simorgh is coming Tomorrow that comes The magic of the darkness of the darkness and this is not longing for us The is not a remaining feather and there is no oppression of the night to this tribe The Way of the Tomorrow Bloody Anger Our cruelty and cruelty is not a persistent and not Until the breakup of is a moment left Thousands of times that we have burned us The Red Season is also a voice The mourning anger is the way to release The glass of the black life of anger. Nazanin I am hot.
