My Darling's Hands - A Pair Of Swans
My darling's hands - a pair of swans - Are diving in the gold of my hair. Everybody, the people of this world Sing the song of love, endlessly. So did I, sometime, long ago And now I'm singing the same, again, That is why my words are steeped in tenderness Are breathing deeply. If the soul is loved to the depths, The heart will become a golden block, Only the Tegeran moon Will not warm the song. I don't know how I can live my life: Shall I burn in the sweet caresses of the sweet Shagi Or shall I anxiously grieve Over the distant memory of a brave song? Everything has its own pace: Something is pleasant for the ear, something - for the eye, If a purse makes a bad song, Then, he's not at all from Shiraz. For these songs speak about me Among the people: He would have sung more tenderly and wonderful But he was ruined by a pair of swans.