Seebe Sorkh from PeeranSal by Sabke Morde

(Official translation from Persian)
Crimson Apple:

A mad monarch,
A golden mace;
Remembering the dream,
A bloodstained talwar.

My crimson apple, thy white cane;
My crimson apple, thy white cane.

A weak light flickering, from the distance;
Like a bright mirage, in a murky forest.
A weak light flickering.

A weak light flickering,
Like a comforting light,
On his drumming heart; the secret of time.
Maybe on the other side of rivers,
There is a kind mother-- waiting,
With open arms.
Maybe there, we’ll see luminous nights,
Riding a black horse; --
Maybe someone’s there, waiting.
The weak light still flickering,
From the distance;
In his dream, in his sleep.
Maybe the sweet dreams are there;
The true meaning of time.
The weak light still flickering,
His last dream;
A mother waiting with open arms, --
Kindly!

A blind forest, with its barren children;
Kindly!
A blind forest,
From the distance, in the dark corner;
Kindly!
The weak light flickering,
Overflowing from her heart;
Kindly!
A blind forest,
From the distance, in the dark corner.
A blind forest on one side,
A weak light flickering on the other.
Like a bright mirage;
A kind mother.

• Experimental Metal
• Extreme Progressive Metal
• Metal
• Progressive Metal
• Iran