Monday, February 24, 2014

Music Monday: Sattar- Mano Natarsoon

Today's song is a request from a reader in Spain: Sattar singing Mano Natarsoon, Don't Scare Me. I had never heard this song before (so thank you for introducing it to me!), and I really liked it, but I have to admit, it was quite a challenge getting through the lyrics. I think this is about as symbolic as it gets, and at some points I was thinking, what is he talking about?! So I settled for just understand the overall theme of loneliness. Hope you enjoy!

be man az roozhāye kutāh // for me the short days 
shabāye sarde zemestoon // the cold winter nights 
zuzeye sag hāye vaylun // the howls of stray dogs
shabe khalvate khiābun // the vacant streets at night
zire saghfhāye shekaste // under broken roofs
rage tonde bād o bārun // the fast streaks of the rain and wind 
ganjehāye por ze hichi // armoire full of nothing
hasrate ye loghmeye noon // wishful for a piece of bread


begu begu bā hamim // tell me, tell me we are together
vali az duriyet nagu // but don't tell me of your distance 
mano natarsoon (x3) // don't scare me

be man az sorfeye barg hā // for me from the rustling of the leaves 
sineye zakhmiye pāyiz // injured chest of autumn
tarse gonjishk hāye āshegh // the fright of the sparrows 
az matarsak hāye jāliz // from the scarecrows of the garden
sare mundan o naraftan // over the staying or leaving
buteh bā golāsh galāviz // bush grappling with its flowers 
pore parhāye shekastast // full of broken feathers
ghafasehāye zarde pāyiz // the yellow cages of autumn


be man az dast hāye tabdār // to me from the feverish hands
labhāye tanāse baste // chapped closed lips
ruye rige dāgh davidam // I ran on hot sand
bā pāye zakhmi o khaste // with sore and tired feet
didane mardi ke zire sāyeye khodesh neshaste // seeing a man sitting under his own shadow
bā hame āvāregihāsh // with all his troubles
del be mundane to baste // has tied his heart to your staying


kesi ke mipendārad // the person who thinks 
tamāme mivehā zamāni miresand // all fruits become ripe at a time 
ke toot farangi az angur hich nemidānad // when strawberries know nothing of grapes


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