there’s no passion to utter one word
what can i say, i’m accused by the ages, if i sing, if i don’t
what can i say of the night whose poison is on my lips
O, the fist of the oppressor that pounds my face
no one aches for me in this world for me to tease
if i cry, if i laugh, if i die, if i live
i’m not that weak willow that trembles with every breeze
i’m the daughter of Afghan who justly wails endlessly
i dream of that dearest day when i split open this cage
when i lift up my head out from this isolation and sing with mystic joy
me and this prison corner, the pain of failure and regret
there is no point for my being, my mouth must be sealed
i know in my heart, that spring and bliss will come
what can I do with bound wings, i cannot fly
though i’ve be silent for so long, melody has not left my thoughts
since every moment i free a whisper from my heart
i’m not that weak willow that trembles with every breeze
i’m the daughter of Afghan who justly wails endlessly
i dream of that dearest day when i split open this cage
when i lift up my head out from this isolation and sing with mystic joy
i’m not that weak willow that trembles with every breeze
i’m the daughter of Afghan who justly wails endlessly
i dream of that dearest day when i split open this cage
when i lift up my head out from this isolation and sing with mystic joy
Singer: Shahla Zaland, Lyrics: Nadia Anjuman, Translation: Saman Ahmadi
the City 