Or what a paste taste of separation Spring Season So when do you come to my day and night. Both the color of a rotten color Spring of Iran is very beautiful My good child then when do you come Garden flowers not to die. The hometown was home What a paste of separate taste My good child then when you come from the bond of regret. So when the release of Iran was only the word Word was homeland what a paste of separation See No credit to their lives In your hands, they are captive What a paste Taste of Separation Spring Season So When do you come and night I have a shower rotten hearts from the Spring of Iran. Their lives are captives in their fate
