شعبان

Sha'aban
Stop me on Shaaban's life; ...Don't let me speak for Quraan's sake
I'm tired of this continuous war;..... Let me say "the hell with Iran" as well

I'll get into cultural pose too .....With less risky and swingy poems
Maybe we could gain bread and water from it ..... We could have fun with this horny folks
I'll get tongue-tied from outcry ... Will get into iconic and symbolic work instead
It's a bit thick but it's worth it... From rear the fight between me and 'Milad' tower
You're a workman and your word is accepted ...Life is hard and a responsible man
One would give in under the expenses weight .... I understand your reasonable grumbles
I know your hands got calluses... Your wife's eyes are tired from sewing
They also say your son has become a druggy.. Do you still pray to that minaret?
Do you still go kissing 'Imam Reza's foot?... By the way, did your daughter Sorayya get healed?
Are you still longing to go to Hajj?... God-willing he himself will help you
Will your salary last until end of the month?.. Did you even get paid this month at all?
What's up? You're not all right, you're pensive chief!... What's up? What happened? You're crying, why?
Shaaban I'm ruined for the lump in your throat.. You're a mountain; pain is nothing in your face
Smile, the situation will get better... This new president has given some promises
I won't sing about Naqi and Mahdi anymore... Shaaban, you're the Imam for me, you're the Man
Shaaban, you're above them all... You haven't gone anywhere, to need to get back
You know no cover-ups or betrayals..... You don't know what Geneva is and don't know any haggling
Atomic energy is not your absolute right.... Your right is to succumb to death here
No money, wealth, will or legacy ..... No connection with notables or nobles
No, you're no worthless blue-eyed artist.... To make money note for you out of manure
You're neither a joyous entertaining musician..... Nor you're after Ershad's* approval
*Ministry of Ershad (Ministry of Culture and Islamic Guidance)
You're neither drowned in discos and cabarets...Nor you've given theses on TVs
You just exist to suffer.... To be squashed in laboring hardship
You exist for them to take your existence away ..... To become a poem, a slogan poem
I'm backing you from behind my computer monitor.... I'll change my status* on Labor Day