بود

I wandered among the graves and couldn’t find you, because your tombstone was small.

It was and what was written on it except your name.

He is only a poet and writer, and that is enough.

I cried at your grave in the dead city, I cried for this. کردم

I cried for the heartless land and looked at my empty hands. زده بود

I did it. The man who was frozen from the cold at the holy shrine of Imamzadeh Taher. اونجا که دیدم

He had the appearance of my grandfather’s youth. I looked at him and from what I saw, شد

I passed by it. From the grave of someone who was killed twice. بار

He was there, I returned twice crying and died twice. بین رفته

I had come and gone twice. A plant had disappeared.

Among the cracks of my fingers, sprouts grew that had a shape of something forgotten. ، او را فراموش کرد

He had no name in mind and when I turned around, I forgot about him.

And from another Turk, I fell for his voice again and called out to him.

And I had called your name. O land.

Heartless! The soil that smells of blood and gunpowder will forgetfulness. می تواند

It takes it like a Turk in its bones and can do with it. پرد

He takes care of his children, but he jumps around like a sparrow.

You are cruel, you have made us heartless. ش بیاورید

Challenge yourself on mountain peaks and in natural refrigerators. شده

Kurdish. From the grave of someone who has been killed twice.

I returned to him three times, cried three times, and died three times. ین بارم را برای تو ریختم

I had come and gone three times; I shed my tears for you the third time. نیست

His name was love, for this land is nothing without him. می کند

Love takes it and breaks it into pieces from the heart. جود ندارد

It rains and there is nothing but sadness and sorrow. ‌گویم

I won’t tell you anything except heartache, disappointment, and inner turmoil.

Give.