پوست شیر [Pooste Shir] [English translation]

Your heart is like a bird’s heart,

But your skin is like a lion’s skin;

Leave your prison and fly.

On the other side of the green jungle,

Behind the plain,

On the other side of the dark days,

On this side of the bright nights,

For believing who we are, there might be a place.

For touching the love’s body,

There must be somebody;

Who holds your head on his shoulder

And who dies for your worries, for your simplicity.

Your heart is like a bird’s heart,

But your skin is like a lion’s skin;

Leave your prison and fly.

“Being lonely” is an old talk,

But it’s bitter and hurtful.

The first and the last talk,

Is the talk of everyday and now.

Being lonely is maybe a way,

A way to infinite;

The story which is always repeated,

Is the immigration.

But in this road that

Just brings thorns to us,

There might be somebody,

Whose hands are not like a cage.

Your heart is like a bird’s heart,

But your skin is like a lion’s skin;

Leave your prison and fly.