Hope of my heart, love, wishes,
Star of my fate, decoration of life,
Bud flower of my each new year,
Is considered as holy when spring comes.
Fringes begin to speak in the saz of the ashuq,
How kind people becomes beautiful,
Flowering fields with colorful chest,
Wakes up when spring comes.
Sound of river, voice of partridge,
Whisper of steppe, song of turaj,
Nightingale’s moan in the meet of the flower,
Spreads around when spring comes.
White-headed peaks, icy lands,
High rocks banded in line,
The highest mountains covered with clouds,
Is washed with glow when spring comes.
Jangi is struck for each new courage,
Busad is built in the top of each party,
Words become limpid in the soul of the poet,
Thousand inspirations are felt when spring comes.
Way, garden, field is adorned with song,
Spring writes a poem to horizon with light,
How many families with kaman, tar,
Are founded when spring comes.
