مرگ من روز فرا

One day the hour of my death will come In a spring bright with waves of light

The earth calls me to itself at every moment They will come along the road to lay me in the ground

Ah, perhaps my beloveds at midnight Will lay flowers on my sorrowful grave

Later, rain and wind Will softly wash my name from the face of the stone

My grave will remain unknown along the road Free from the tales of name and shame

Marge man roze faraa khwahad rasid Dar bahare rawshan az amwaje noor

Khak mekhwanad mara har dam ba khwesh Merasand az rah ke dar khakam nehand

Ah shayad ashiqanam nema shab Gul ba roye gore ghamnakam nehand

Bahd ha naame mara baran o baad Narm meshoyand az rokhsare sang

Gore man gomnaam memand ba rah Faregh az afsanahaye naam o nang