Colorful Flowers 580B – Avaz in Afshari
Shajarian’s Flowers (43)
Singers: Mohammadreza Shajarian and Hayedeh
Violin and Composer: Ali Tajvidi
Santur: Majid Najahi
Tombak: Jahangir Malek
Narrator: Firoozeh Amirmoez
Ghazal Avaz: Rahi Moayeri
Lyrics: Rahi Moayeri
We decided to, in collaboration with the esteemed Shajarian’s Home page, present all of Mohammadreza Shajarian’s radio programs under the title “Shajarian’s Flowers” with a specific schedule to you, dear companions.
We have created a separate project on the site called Radio Performances for you esteemed individuals. The difference between that project and the Shajarian’s Flowers collection is in the curation of works that we present in the Shajarian’s Flowers project. Of course, we have tried to provide the best available quality of works in Radio Performances as well.
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Online Play of Colorful Flowers 580B:
You are the comfort of my heart, or my affliction
You are the Qibla of love, or my God
You are the passion of love and youth
You are my desire in life
If I seek the moon, you appear on the roof
And if I drink wine, you appear in my cup
I am weary of life without your eyes
A glance, a glance, for I am dying
From your love, I have gained nothing but a name and a secret
That in this bed of sorrow, my heart does not find joy
Come, in this final moment, let go of conversation
Give a glance to “Rahi”, do not hurt his heart, for he is dying
I will no longer make lamentations like the reed
I will not complain of your love to God
For you have no scent of loyalty
You have no heart or soul familiar with pain
What happened to those nights when you were with me?
You were in my embrace instead of my tears
I am weary of life without your eyes
A glance, a glance, for I am dying
*******
I do not know if that unkind moon will remember me or not
Will my deceptive love make me happy with a promise or not
I am so ruined that even wine cannot soothe me
Will a warm lip be found to revive me or not
O breeze, give a message from me to that stony-hearted hunter
Whether he will set me free while the flower remains in the garden or not
I am never heedless of the memory of loved ones, not for a moment
But I do not know if anyone will remember me after I am gone or not
“Rahi”, blood drips from my lamentations, but I do not know
If that tyrant will lend an ear to my cries or not
