ax hai ziba az gol haye laleh dar Iran

ax hai didani az ghoroobe zibaye tehran

Spring, you forgot spring, you fall once. Your big trees were yellow and fell to the ground. Your flowers are full of flowers. Your leaves and flowers are grazing feed, seeds, and seeds. Your spring rain, tears. Nowruz, an old day. Seven cents, seven cents. Thirteen of you. Your happiness is sad, your comfort is suffering. Crying laughs. Knot on the grass, with a wish for the new year, frustration. Untreated pain, in addition to ...