My country, you are to me as a buffer.
When I am thirsty asking eagerly for water.
Your night is a silky thread of a bride pall
In her long robe swaggering in the mall
Your ripe date palms are as if clustery stars.
Like the shadow of Saturn reflexes on Mars
Your meadows are the everlasting spring.
It would be more cheerful when birds sing.
When the moon shines over its peaks to stay
Ground would be glimmering with its silvery ray
Blither souls will chant eagerly at dusk
Thou would like to smell the diffused musk
Hearable pray would be highly set up
Then a heavenly sound never it will stop
An esteemed blessing covers its side.
May God bless it, however, a newborn cried.
Donít blame me if I openly reveal my love
That's my country it is my brilliant stove
If Khosrow arrives again to Baghdad,
We shall prepare a military of a new brigade
** **** ***
Its rivers have the fresh cool gratifying drench
A gulp of it and your thirst will soon quench
Its valleys have the abundant flowing brooks
Any of a verdant shrub staunchly lovely looks.
You may see many villages alongside its rivers
A place always is a hospitable to the new comer
In what we have sorrow we normally give up
To be united when the matter becomes hump
Rarely have we driven to nonsense attitudes
And we really know where to draw our multitude.
The majority of our nation refuses the tyrant
Hardly had they obeyed him as a bound servant.