Album:
شب نیلوفری (Shabe Niloofari)
Original lyrics
Persian
Translation
English
درخت
The Tree
In the solitude of a vast plain
That is endless like night-time loneliness
A proud tree with a black trunk,
Is the last green tree standing
On its body, there are scars; scars by an axe
Neither some heart and arrow, nor some name carving
Its branches; covered in bird feathers
A holy beehive of tied ribbons1 and spell writing
So many birds, on the road to migration,
Were hosted at its green tablecloth
So many travelers, under its umbrella
Have hit an axe to their exhaustion2
Until one day, you appeared; not tired
With a beautiful old saddlebag
There was neither a plant with you, nor mirror, nor water
With you, was only a stone made axe
That pround and honourable tree,
With its head reaching the sun, is me, is me
That tree, yielding its body to the axe,
Worrying about those birds, is me, is me
I am the green voice of the leaden soil
A voice with its dagger pointed to God
A voice, which at the bewildered night of the plain,
Even though is not much of a scream, it's as loud as it can get
The dancing of your smooth hands, axeman!
Followed by the attacks of the hungry and rigid axe,
Is the last tragic image of existence,
In the green mind of the last tree
Now, while counting down my seconds,
I hear constant blows of the axe
The axe which is the forever enemy
Of this tenacious and strong tree
I am worried about the weary wings of those birds
But keep hitting, hit your axe
I am worried about the solitude of the travelers
Hit the final blow harder
I am worried about the weary wings of those birds
But keep hitting, hit your axe
I am worried about the solitude of the travelers
Hit the final blow harder
I am worried about the weary wings of those birds
But keep hitting, hit your axe
I am worried about the solitude of the travelers
Hit the final blow harder
Hit the final blow harder
Hit the final blow harder
Hit the final blow harder

Give a shoutout to Stormy Night






