دلگیر دلگیرم از او ، از او و آینه هایش
آن خود پسندی که دل را ، خون می کند ادعایش
او سر به بالا و مغرور، غافل از اینکه همیشه
مردی علی رغم مردی ، افتاده بر دست و پایش
از خیر عشقش گذشتم ، ماندن برایم عذاب است
وقتی که فرقی ندارد ، بود و نبودم برایش
احساس تلخی ندارم ، هر چند وقت وداع است
شاید که شیرین شود عشق ، در آخرین لحظه هایش
دلگیر دلگیرم از او ، از او و آینه هایش
آن خود پسندی که دل را ، خون می کند ادعایش
او سر به بالا و مغرور، غافل از اینکه همیشه
مردی علی رغم مردی ، افتاده بر دست و پایش
از خیر عشقش گذشتم ، ماندن برایم عذاب است
وقتی که فرقی ندارد ، بود و نبودم برایش
احساس تلخی ندارم ، هر چند وقت وداع است
شاید که شیرین شود عشق ، در آخرین لحظه هایش
I am sad, sad about him, about him and his mirrors
That egotism that makes the heart bleed, its claim
He is proud and arrogant, unaware that he always
A man, despite a man, fell on his hands and feet
I have passed over the goodness of his love, staying is torment for me
When it makes no difference, whether I was there or not for him
I do not feel bitter, however long it is farewell
Perhaps love will become sweet, in its last moments
I am sad, sad about him, about him and his mirrors
That egotism that makes the heart bleed, its claim
He is proud and arrogant, unaware that he always
A man, despite a man, fell on his hands and feet
I have passed over the goodness of his love, staying is torment for me
When it makes no difference, whether I was there or not for him
I do not feel bitter, however long it is farewell
Perhaps love will become sweet, in its last moments
That egotism that makes the heart bleed, its claim
He is proud and arrogant, unaware that he always
A man, despite a man, fell on his hands and feet
I have passed over the goodness of his love, staying is torment for me
When it makes no difference, whether I was there or not for him
I do not feel bitter, however long it is farewell
Perhaps love will become sweet, in its last moments
I am sad, sad about him, about him and his mirrors
That egotism that makes the heart bleed, its claim
He is proud and arrogant, unaware that he always
A man, despite a man, fell on his hands and feet
I have passed over the goodness of his love, staying is torment for me
When it makes no difference, whether I was there or not for him
I do not feel bitter, however long it is farewell
Perhaps love will become sweet, in its last moments
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