Dream of the Cry (Song adaptation inspired by “سودای فریاد”)

 

On the restless strings
of our wounded nights,
if no healing comes—

leave a spark

so the volcano of pain
in the bleeding throat of the earth
may rise
and burn into the sky.

Let the cry rise,
let it break the stone of silence.
From wounded hearts
and locked hands—

let the cry rise
like fire through the dark earth.
One day the buried voice
will become the dawn.

On the blind knot
of our swallowed tears,
if no road leads to a scream—

leave a kiss

so the storm of lost words
wandering in our mouths
may finally
flow into the wind.

Let the cry rise,
let it break the stone of silence.
From wounded hearts
and locked hands—

let the cry rise
like fire through the dark earth.
One day the buried voice
will become the dawn.

Touch the chains
with the warmth of your hands—
even a moment of freedom
can teach the soul
how to breathe.

Let the cry rise
through the dust of broken days.
The dream of yesterday’s children
is still alive—

and somewhere
beneath the silent streets
the future
is learning to sing.

Let the cry rise.
Let the cry rise.

Arsalan -Wiesbaden

11 March 2026

Lady ( ترانه برکرقته از شعر بانو)

Lady—
voice of freedom,
hidden song of dawn.

Each morning
the empty lines of my thoughts
fill
with the memory of you.

Lady,
tell me—
from what silent dream
did your melody escape?

Was it the rain
falling leaf by leaf
through the forest
that carried your song?

Night listened,
the branches sang together,
and even darkness
stepped aside.

Lady,
mysterious gazelle,
whisper again—

so the hidden word
may run
across the white page.

Lady,
whisper again
your love,
your song,
your freedom.

Arsalan- Wiesbaden

11 March 2026

Air of Spring ( ترانه برگرفته از شعر هوایی بهار )

 

It’s been so long since spring came through these walls.
Winter stole the road of seasons.

A lonely bud forgot to rise.
The branches whisper in their sleep.

No rain comes down to wash the sorrow.
No autumn color fights the cold.

Tell me, gypsy, where’s your black tent now?
Where do the tired tribes go?

You carry the tribe on your shoulders,
walking toward a green air of spring.

A green air of spring—
somewhere beyond the frost.

The moon drags a star across the sky.
The sun falls slowly into dusk.

My heart is cloud, my heart is waiting.
My heart is calling for the rain.

Rain that strikes the mountain’s shoulder
till the mountain stands again.

And in the wind a secret travels—
spring whispered to a gypsy girl.

Arsalan-Wiesbaden

10 March 2026

Breath of Rain

In a breath of air, I wander far,
Beneath the quiet wandering star.
The clouds like torn dreams drift away,
Across the fading light of day.

The stars hide softly from the sun,
Till night returns and they are one.
Around the moon their silver train
Awaits the whisper of the rain.

Rain, rain — fall again,
Wash the sorrow, wash the pain.
From the clouds across the plain,
Rain, rain — fall again.

The sky once held a silent cry,
A hidden sob it could not deny.
Then suddenly its heart gave way,
And tears of silver filled the day.

I climb the mountain, cold and high,
Where earth and endless heavens lie.
I call the river rushing free
To carry longing to the sea.

Rain, rain — fall again,
Wash the sorrow, wash the pain.
From the clouds across the plain,
Rain, rain — fall again.

The garden drinks from rooftop streams,
Awakening roots and buried dreams.
The cypress sways, the poplars sing,
As living winds of memory swing.

And through the storm a wanderer’s way
Leads trembling doubt from dark today.
Along the path both wild and plain
Forever breathes the crystal rain.

Rain, rain — fall again,
Wash the sorrow, wash the pain.
From the clouds across the plain,
Rain, rain — fall again.

Dissonant Time ( روزگار ) song

With your dissonant tune
I will not rhyme,
I will not walk your rhythm,
O time.

The clouds drift by
yet shed no rain,
And sorrow lingers in the air
like an old refrain.

Though hearts are bold,
no soul will climb
the weary road
you call a time.

The city burns
with hidden rage,
its silent fury
locked in a cage.

So with your dissonant tune
I will not rhyme,
I will not build within
your broken chime.

Until strength returns
and songs grow prime—

With your dissonant tune
I will not rhyme,
I will not sing with you,
O time.

Arsalan-Wiesbaden

10 March 2026

Dissonant Time ( روزکار )

With your dissonant tune I will not align,
Your broken music is no song of mine,
O restless, faithless time.

Sorrow hangs heavy in the air,
Dark clouds drift on yet shed no rain;
The waiting earth lies cracked and bare,
Unwept through seasons filled with pain.

Though hearts are bold, none firmly stand
To walk the weary road of days,
Or tread with light and hopeful hand
Through time’s slow, dragging maze.

The restless city burns with grief,
Its silent rage behind high walls;
Each spark of hope is strangely brief,
Each fragile beam too quickly falls.

So with your dissonant tune I build no more,
O time, whose treachery I know—
Until lost strength returns once more
And gentler songs begin to grow.

Your crooked melody I shun—
I turn away from rhyme and chime;
For I despise the song you’ve spun,
Treacherous, hollow time.

ڕۆژگاری تاڵ ( روزکار تلخ )

جل و بەرگی سپیی بەفر

لەسەر تەنە تاریکیی ڕۆژگار

ئارام

دەبارێ.

گڵاویەک

کە لە خاکدا

بێدەنگ

خامۆش دەبێ،

ساتەکانی خواحافیزیی پاییز

بە پەنجە ڕووتەکانی باخچە

یەک بە یەک

دەژمێرێ.

چاوی تێکەڵی هەوریش

لە شتابی با

مات ماوە؛

ئەو بايەی

بە سەرمای زستان

تەنە بێ‌هێزی دشت

دەپۆشێ.

لە کوێی گیانمدا

هێلانەت کردووە، ئازار؟

کە هەر جارێ

بانگی ناڵەیەک

خلوتی ماڵ

لە خەمدا

دادەنیشێنێ.

خەمێکی بێ‌ئامانە،

نازنین؛

و بێگومان

هەوای باوەشی ڕزگاری

پێویستی هەیە

بە ئەڵقەی باوەشەکانت

تا بارە گرانەکەی ماندووبوون

لە شانم

بخاتە سەر

زەوی.

جلێکم دەوێ

لە تار و پودی ئیبریشیمی باران،

بە ڕەنگی گەرم و منداڵانە؛

تا هەر جارێ

بە خەجالەت

منداڵەکان نەڵێن:

«ئەم ڕۆژانە

ڕۆژگار تاڵە…

شتێک بکە.»

ئەرسلان – ویسبادن

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