Like Farhad was, you were a mountain, our calling
Our mountain, our breast, our fingernails, our adze,
For each sip of wine, we didn't praise the cupbearer
Our tears, our wind, our eyes, the winecups
Our tears, our winds - our eyes, the winecups
Our tears, our winds - our eyes, the winecups
My moon, my sovereign
Come my rough breath/spirit
Come crown my head
Give heart to your unbelieving companion
I gave and saw your worthiness
The wound was both Farhad's and my own
He walked me to the foot of the mountain himself
Whoever doesn't sit quietly by himself
Fails to see my beloved
Fails to see my beloved
If you lose heart
If you lose heart
It is permissible to be mad
It is permissable to be mad
Among the beloved
You have a deserving heart
Where were you last night?
Where were you last night?
You were in my beloved's quarter
You were in my beloved's quarter
Divine bloodshed, oh heart
Divine bloodshed, oh heart
Your turn will come, my rival
Your turn will come, my rival
Your turn will come, my rival
Your turn will come, my rival
(Important background: this song concerns Farhad, a hero from the story of Khosrow and Shirin. Farhad fell in love with the princess Shirin and wanted to marry her but was ordered to dig a tunnel under Mount Behistun on the border of Armenia, to win her. He did it all by himself; but then was told Shirin had died (she hadn't). In despair, he killed himself, using his pickax
that was the tool of his trade, a skilled engineer and stone-cutter)