Shahin Najafi - Ranandegi Dar Masti | Hich Hich Hich 2012 скачать в хорошем качестве

Shahin Najafi - Ranandegi Dar Masti | Hich Hich Hich 2012

Website: http://www.shahinnajafimusic.com Facebook:   / shahinnajafi666   iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/artist/sh... CD Baby: http://www.cdbaby.com/Artist/ShahinNa... Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004A0XOUY Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/music/a... رانندگی در مستی (آلبوم هیچ هیچ هیچ) - شاهین نجفی Ranandegi dar masti (driving drunk) I am a gladiolus who in this ominous land would be destined on the graves and the granite stones Everyday I get slain and my poems are merely published by matchstick flames My agony is like Hafiz’ (Iranian poet of 13TH century) malady, its remedy is Razi’s (Iranian philosopher and physician of 9th century) discovery (alcohol) The generation dedicated to the medieval, is satisfied by the old Armenian cupbearers When the life is such a silly theater, I’m only satisfied by the sips of oblivion Raskolnikov (the main character of Dostoyevsky’s crime and punishment) slashed an old woman and I kill the inspiration goddess with the same axe Evermore I get drunk like a bottle of wine which turns into the Molotov cocktail when the time is up I’ve become such a running fugitive whose life is sentenced to a nonstop escape Doesn’t matter on¬ the Chalus route (to vacation) or the Qom way (to pilgrimage), I’m a drunkard who likes to drive Like a fish weeping in aquarium to survive in its own tears You’d better to stagger in this life, when you’re not drunk you'd reach the dead end In drunkenness people become kind again, even the cop bros at the check points They smile and manacle your hands, they open the way to take you In ants’ trap you turn into Solomon, the carpets fly without you For several times they stripe your back by eighty lashes for the very same delict (as an Islamic law) Get back to home even though you know you’re the only one caring about you You are a gladiolus who in this ominous land would be destined on the graves and the granite stones Everyday you get slain and your poems are merely published by matchstick flames Evermore you get drunk like a bottle of wine which turns into the Molotov cocktail when the time is up You’ve become such a running fugitive whose life is sentenced to a nonstop escape Lyrics: Yaghma Golrouee Translation by: Nick Rastin