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» William Shakespeare » Poems » A Lover's Complaint | متن ترانه انگلیسی

   FROM off a hill whose concave womb reworded
A plaintful story from a sistering vale,
My spirits to attend this double voice accorded,
And down I laid to list the sad-tuned tale;
Ere long espied a fickle maid full pale,
Tearing of papers, breaking rings a-twain,
Storming her world with sorrow's wind and rain.

Upon her head a platted hive of straw,
Which fortified her visage from the sun,
Whereon the thought might think sometime it saw
The carcass of beauty spent and done:
Time had not scythed all that youth begun,
Nor youth all quit; but, spite of heaven's fell rage,
Some beauty peep'd through lattice of sear'd age.

Oft did she heave her napkin to her eyne,
Which on it had conceited characters,
Laundering the silken figures in the brine
That season'd woe had pelleted in tears,
And often reading what contents it bears;
As often shrieking undistinguish'd woe,
In clamours of all size, both high and low.

Sometimes her levell'd eyes their carriage ride,
As they did battery to the spheres intend;
Sometime diverted their poor balls are tied
To the orbed earth; sometimes they do extend
Their view right on; anon their gazes lend
To every place at once, and, nowhere fix'd,
The mind and sight distractedly commix'd.

Her hair, nor loose nor tied in formal plat,
Proclaim'd in her a careless hand of pride
For some, untuck'd, descended her sheaved hat,
Hanging her pale and pined cheek beside;
Some in her threaden fillet still did bide,
And true to bondage would not break from thence,
Though slackly braided in loose negligence.

A thousand favours from a maund she drew
Of amber, crystal, and of beaded jet,
Which one by one she in a river threw,
Upon whose weeping margent she was set;
Like usury, applying wet to wet,
Or monarch's hands that let not bounty fall
Where want cries some, but where excess begs all.

Of folded schedules had she many a one,
Which she perused, sigh'd, tore, and gave the flood;
Crack'd many a ring of posied gold and bone
Bidding them find their sepulchres in mud;
Found yet moe letters sadly penn'd in blood,
With sleided silk feat and affectedly
Enswathed, and seal'd to curious secrecy.

These often bathed she in her fluxive eyes,
And often kiss'd, and often 'gan to tear:
Cried 'O false blood, thou register of lies,
What unapproved witness dost thou bear!
Ink would have seem'd more black and damned here!'
This said, in top of rage the lines she rents,
Big discontent so breaking their contents.

A reverend man that grazed his cattle nigh--
Sometime a blusterer, that the ruffle knew
Of court, of city, and had let go by
The swiftest hours, observed as they flew--
Towards this afflicted fancy fastly drew,
And, privileged by age, desires to know
In brief the grounds and motives of her woe.

So slides he down upon his grained bat,
And comely-distant sits he by her side;
When he again desires her, being sat,
Her grievance with his hearing to divide:
If that from him there may be aught applied
Which may her suffering ecstasy assuage,
'Tis promised in the charity of age.

'Father,' she says, 'though in me you behold
The injury of many a blasting hour,
Let it not tell your judgment I am old;
Not age, but sorrow, over me hath power:
I might as yet have been a spreading flower,
Fresh to myself, If I had self-applied
Love to myself and to no love beside.

'But, woe is me! too early I attended
A youthful suit--it was to gain my grace--
Of one by nature's outwards so commended,
That maidens' eyes stuck over all his face:
Love lack'd a dwelling, and made him her place;
And when in his fair parts she did abide,
She was new lodged and newly deified.

'His browny locks did hang in crooked curls;
And every light occasion of the wind
Upon his lips their silken parcels hurls.
What's sweet to do, to do will aptly find:
Each eye that saw him did enchant the mind,
For on his visage was in little drawn
What largeness thinks in Paradise was sawn.

'Small show of man was yet upon his chin;
His phoenix down began but to appear
Like unshorn velvet on that termless skin
Whose bare out-bragg'd the web it seem'd to wear:
Yet show'd his visage by that cost more dear;
And nice affections wavering stood in doubt
If best were as it was, or best without.

'His qualities were beauteous as his form,
For maiden-tongued he was, and thereof free;
Yet, if men moved him, was he such a storm
As oft 'twixt May and April is to see,
When winds breathe sweet, untidy though they be.
His rudeness so with his authorized youth
Did livery falseness in a pride of truth.

'Well could he ride, and often men would say
'That horse his mettle from his rider takes:
Proud of subjection, noble by the sway,
What rounds, what bounds, what course, what stop
he makes!'
And controversy hence a question takes,
Whether the horse by him became his deed,
Or he his manage by the well-doing steed.

'But quickly on this side the verdict went:
His real habitude gave life and grace
To appertainings and to ornament,
Accomplish'd in himself, not in his case:
All aids, themselves made fairer by their place,
Came for additions; yet their purposed trim
Pieced not his grace, but were all graced by him.

'So on the tip of his subduing tongue
All kinds of arguments and question deep,
All replication prompt, and reason strong,
For his advantage still did wake and sleep:
To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weep,
He had the dialect and different skill,
Catching all passions in his craft of will:

'That he did in the general bosom reign
Of young, of old; and sexes both enchanted,
To dwell with him in thoughts, or to remain
In personal duty, following where he haunted:
Consents bewitch'd, ere he desire, have granted;
And dialogued for him what he would say,
Ask'd their own wills, and made their wills obey.

'Many there were that did his picture get,
To serve their eyes, and in it put their mind;
Like fools that in th' imagination set
The goodly objects which abroad they find
Of lands and mansions, theirs in thought assign'd;
And labouring in moe pleasures to bestow them
Than the true gouty landlord which doth owe them:

'So many have, that never touch'd his hand,
Sweetly supposed them mistress of his heart.
My woeful self, that did in freedom stand,
And was my own fee-simple, not in part,
What with his art in youth, and youth in art,
Threw my affections in his charmed power,
Reserved the stalk and gave him all my flower.

'Yet did I not, as some my equals did,
Demand of him, nor being desired yielded;
Finding myself in honour so forbid,
With safest distance I mine honour shielded:
Experience for me many bulwarks builded
Of proofs new-bleeding, which remain'd the foil
Of this false jewel, and his amorous spoil.

'But, ah, who ever shunn'd by precedent
The destined ill she must herself assay?
Or forced examples, 'gainst her own content,
To put the by-past perils in her way?
Counsel may stop awhile what will not stay;
For when we rage, advice is often seen
By blunting us to make our wits more keen.

'Nor gives it satisfaction to our blood,
That we must curb it upon others' proof;
To be forbod the sweets that seem so good,
For fear of harms that preach in our behoof.
O appetite, from judgment stand aloof!
The one a palate hath that needs will taste,
Though Reason weep, and cry, 'It is thy last.'

'For further I could say 'This man's untrue,'
And knew the patterns of his foul beguiling;
Heard where his plants in others' orchards grew,
Saw how deceits were gilded in his smiling;
Knew vows were ever brokers to defiling;
Thought characters and words merely but art,
And bastards of his foul adulterate heart.

'And long upon these terms I held my city,
Till thus he gan besiege me: 'Gentle maid,
Have of my suffering youth some feeling pity,
And be not of my holy vows afraid:
That's to ye sworn to none was ever said;
For feasts of love I have been call'd unto,
Till now did ne'er invite, nor never woo.

''All my offences that abroad you see
Are errors of the blood, none of the mind;
Love made them not: with acture they may be,
Where neither party is nor true nor kind:
They sought their shame that so their shame did find;
And so much less of shame in me remains,
By how much of me their reproach contains.

''Among the many that mine eyes have seen,
Not one whose flame my heart so much as warm'd,
Or my affection put to the smallest teen,
Or any of my leisures ever charm'd:
Harm have I done to them, but ne'er was harm'd;
Kept hearts in liveries, but mine own was free,
And reign'd, commanding in his monarchy.

''Look here, what tributes wounded fancies sent me,
Of paled pearls and rubies red as blood;
Figuring that they their passions likewise lent me
Of grief and blushes, aptly understood
In bloodless white and the encrimson'd mood;
Effects of terror and dear modesty,
Encamp'd in hearts, but fighting outwardly.

''And, lo, behold these talents of their hair,
With twisted metal amorously impleach'd,
I have received from many a several fair,
Their kind acceptance weepingly beseech'd,
With the annexions of fair gems enrich'd,
And deep-brain'd sonnets that did amplify
Each stone's dear nature, worth, and quality.

''The diamond,--why, 'twas beautiful and hard,
Whereto his invised properties did tend;
The deep-green emerald, in whose fresh regard
Weak sights their sickly radiance do amend;
The heaven-hued sapphire and the opal blend
With objects manifold: each several stone,
With wit well blazon'd, smiled or made some moan.

''Lo, all these trophies of affections hot,
Of pensived and subdued desires the tender,
Nature hath charged me that I hoard them not,
But yield them up where I myself must render,
That is, to you, my origin and ender;
For these, of force, must your oblations be,
Since I their altar, you enpatron me.

''O, then, advance of yours that phraseless hand,
Whose white weighs down the airy scale of praise;
Take all these similes to your own command,
Hallow'd with sighs that burning lungs did raise;
What me your minister, for you obeys,
Works under you; and to your audit comes
Their distract parcels in combined sums.

''Lo, this device was sent me from a nun,
Or sister sanctified, of holiest note;
Which late her noble suit in court did shun,
Whose rarest havings made the blossoms dote;
For she was sought by spirits of richest coat,
But kept cold distance, and did thence remove,
To spend her living in eternal love.

''But, O my sweet, what labour is't to leave
The thing we have not, mastering what not strives,
Playing the place which did no form receive,
Playing patient sports in unconstrained gyves?
She that her fame so to herself contrives,
The scars of battle 'scapeth by the flight,
And makes her absence valiant, not her might.

''O, pardon me, in that my boast is true:
The accident which brought me to her eye
Upon the moment did her force subdue,
And now she would the caged cloister fly:
Religious love put out Religion's eye:
Not to be tempted, would she be immured,
And now, to tempt, all liberty procured.

''How mighty then you are, O, hear me tell!
The broken bosoms that to me belong
Have emptied all their fountains in my well,
And mine I pour your ocean all among:
I strong o'er them, and you o'er me being strong,
Must for your victory us all congest,
As compound love to physic your cold breast.

''My parts had power to charm a sacred nun,
Who, disciplined, ay, dieted in grace,
Believed her eyes when they to assail begun,
All vows and consecrations giving place:
O most potential love! vow, bond, nor space,
In thee hath neither sting, knot, nor confine,
For thou art all, and all things else are thine.

''When thou impressest, what are precepts worth
Of stale example? When thou wilt inflame,
How coldly those impediments stand forth
Of wealth, of filial fear, law, kindred, fame!
Love's arms are peace, 'gainst rule, 'gainst sense,
'gainst shame,
And sweetens, in the suffering pangs it bears,
The aloes of all forces, shocks, and fears.

''Now all these hearts that do on mine depend,
Feeling it break, with bleeding groans they pine;
And supplicant their sighs to you extend,
To leave the battery that you make 'gainst mine,
Lending soft audience to my sweet design,
And credent soul to that strong-bonded oath
That shall prefer and undertake my troth.'

'This said, his watery eyes he did dismount,
Whose sights till then were levell'd on my face;
Each cheek a river running from a fount
With brinish current downward flow'd apace:
O, how the channel to the stream gave grace!
Who glazed with crystal gate the glowing roses
That flame through water which their hue encloses.

'O father, what a hell of witchcraft lies
In the small orb of one particular tear!
But with the inundation of the eyes
What rocky heart to water will not wear?
What breast so cold that is not warmed here?
O cleft effect! cold modesty, hot wrath,
Both fire from hence and chill extincture hath.

'For, lo, his passion, but an art of craft,
Even there resolved my reason into tears;
There my white stole of chastity I daff'd,
Shook off my sober guards and civil fears;
Appear to him, as he to me appears,
All melting; though our drops this difference bore,
His poison'd me, and mine did him restore.

'In him a plenitude of subtle matter,
Applied to cautels, all strange forms receives,
Of burning blushes, or of weeping water,
Or swooning paleness; and he takes and leaves,
In either's aptness, as it best deceives,
To blush at speeches rank to weep at woes,
Or to turn white and swoon at tragic shows.

'That not a heart which in his level came
Could 'scape the hail of his all-hurting aim,
Showing fair nature is both kind and tame;
And, veil'd in them, did win whom he would maim:
Against the thing he sought he would exclaim;
When he most burn'd in heart-wish'd luxury,
He preach'd pure maid, and praised cold chastity.

'Thus merely with the garment of a Grace
The naked and concealed fiend he cover'd;
That th' unexperient gave the tempter place,
Which like a cherubin above them hover'd.
Who, young and simple, would not be so lover'd?
Ay me! I fell; and yet do question make
What I should do again for such a sake.

'O, that infected moisture of his eye,
O, that false fire which in his cheek so glow'd,
O, that forced thunder from his heart did fly,
O, that sad breath his spongy lungs bestow'd,
O, all that borrow'd motion seeming owed,
Would yet again betray the fore-betray'd,
And new pervert a reconciled maid!'


William Shakespeare



مطالب مرتبط :
» William Shakespeare » Poems
» William Shakespeare » Poems » Fairy Land i

برچسبها : william - shakespeare - poems - lover - complaint
نوشته شده توسط ایران در آدینه 07 بهمن 1390 ساعت 07:24
» William Shakespeare » Poems » Fairy Land i | متن ترانه انگلیسی

OVER hill, over dale,
   Thorough bush, thorough brier,
   Over park, over pale,
   Thorough flood, thorough fire,
   I do wander everywhere,
   Swifter than the moone's sphere;
   And I serve the fairy queen,
   To dew her orbs upon the green:
   The cowslips tall her pensioners be;
   In their gold coats spots you see;
   Those be rubies, fairy favours,
   In those freckles live their savours:
   I must go seek some dew-drops here,
And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.


William Shakespeare



مطالب مرتبط :
» William Shakespeare » Poems

برچسبها : fairy - land - william - shakespeare - poems
نوشته شده توسط ایران در آدینه 07 بهمن 1390 ساعت 07:17
» خواننده : شهرام ناظری » آلبوم : امیر کبیر » آهنگ : تصنیف ای عاشقان | متن ترانه فارسی

ای عاشقان ای عاشقان، پیمانه ها پر خون کنید
وز خون دل چون لاله ها، رخساره ها گلگون کنید

دیوانه چون طغیان کند، زنجیر و زندان بشکند

از زلف لیلی حلقه ای بر گردن مجنون کنید

نوری برای دوستان، دودی به چشم دشمنان
من دل بر آتش می نهم، این هیمه را افزون کنید

آمد یکی آتش سوار، بیرون جهید از این حصار
تا بر دمد خورشید نو، شب را ز خود بیرون کنید



مطالب مرتبط :
» خواننده : مجید خراطها » آلبوم : نفرین » ترانه : می دونم بر نمی گردی
» جدایی » شاعر : افشین یداللهی » آلبوم : سلام آخر » خواننده : احسان خواجه امیری
» خواننده : شهرام ناظری » آلبوم : امیر کبیر » آهنگ : شب از شبهای پاییز است
» خواننده : شهرام ناظری » آلبوم : امیر کبیر » آهنگ : تصنیف گریه کن
» خواننده : شهرام ناظری » آلبوم : امیر کبیر » آهنگ : تصنیف ریشه در خاک

برچسبها : خواننده - شهرام - ناظری - آلبوم - امیر - کبیر - آهنگ - تصنیف - عاشقان
نوشته شده توسط ایران در آدینه 07 بهمن 1390 ساعت 07:11
» William Shakespeare » Poems | متن ترانه انگلیسی

Poems

In 1593 and 1594, when the theatres were closed because of plague, Shakespeare published two narrative poems on erotic themes, Venus and Adonis and The Rape of Lucrece. He dedicated them to Henry Wriothesley, Earl of Southampton. In Venus and Adonis, an innocent Adonis rejects the sexual advances of Venus; while in The Rape of Lucrece, the virtuous wife Lucrece is raped by the lustful Tarquin.[118] Influenced by Ovid's Metamorphoses, the poems show the guilt and moral confusion that result from uncontrolled lust.Both proved popular and were often reprinted during Shakespeare's lifetime. A third narrative poem, A Lover's Complaint, in which a young woman laments her seduction by a persuasive suitor, was printed in the first edition of the Sonnets in 1609. Most scholars now accept that Shakespeare wrote A Lover's Complaint. Critics consider that its fine qualities are marred by leaden effects.The Phoenix and the Turtle, printed in Robert Chester's 1601 Love's Martyr, mourns the deaths of the legendary phoenix and his lover, the faithful turtle dove. In 1599, two early drafts of sonnets 138 and 144 appeared in The Passionate Pilgrim, published under Shakespeare's name but without his permission.

Sonnets

Main article: Shakespeare's sonnets


Title page from 1609 edition of Shake-Speares Sonnets.

Published in 1609, the Sonnets were the last of Shakespeare's non-dramatic works to be printed. Scholars are not certain when each of the 154 sonnets was composed, but evidence suggests that Shakespeare wrote sonnets throughout his career for a private readership. Even before the two unauthorised sonnets appeared in The Passionate Pilgrim in 1599, Francis Meres had referred in 1598 to Shakespeare's "sugred Sonnets among his private friends". Few analysts believe that the published collection follows Shakespeare's intended sequence. He seems to have planned two contrasting series: one about uncontrollable lust for a married woman of dark complexion (the "dark lady"), and one about conflicted love for a fair young man (the "fair youth"). It remains unclear if these figures represent real individuals, or if the authorial "I" who addresses them represents Shakespeare himself, though Wordsworth believed that with the sonnets "Shakespeare unlocked his heart". The 1609 edition was dedicated to a "Mr. W.H.", credited as "the only begetter" of the poems.
"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate..."
—Lines from Shakespeare's Sonnet 18.
It is not known whether this was written by Shakespeare himself or by the publisher, Thomas Thorpe, whose initials appear at the foot of the dedication page; nor is it known who Mr. W.H. was, despite numerous theories, or whether Shakespeare even authorised the publication. Critics praise the Sonnets as a profound meditation on the nature of love, sexual passion, procreation, death, and time.



برچسبها : william - shakespeare - poems
نوشته شده توسط ایران در آدینه 07 بهمن 1390 ساعت 07:07
» خواننده : شهرام ناظری » آلبوم : امیر کبیر » آهنگ : تصنیف ریشه در خاک | متن ترانه فارسی

تو از این دشت خشک تشنه روزی کوچ خواهی کرد و اشک من تو را بدرود خواهد گفت
نگاهت تلخ و افسرده است، دلت را خار خار ناامیدی سخت آزرده است
غم این نابسامانی همه توش و توانت را ز تن بردست
تو را کوچیدن از این خاک دل برکندن از جان است
تو را با برگ برگ این چمن پیوند پنهان است
تو را از نیمه ره برگشتن یاران، تو را تزویر غمخواران، ز پا افکند
تو را هنگامه شوم شغالان بانگ بی تعطیل زاغان، در ستوه آورد

من اینجا ریشه در خاکم
من اینجا عاشق این خاک از آلودگی پاکم
من اینجا تا نفس باقیست میمانم
من از این جا چه میخواهم، نمیدانم

امید روشنایی گر چه در این تیرگی ها نیست،
من اینجا باز در این دشت خشک تشنه میمانم
من اینجا روزی آخر، از دل این خاک، با دست تهی گل بر می افشانم
من اینجا روزی آخر از ستیغ کوه، چون خورشید، سرود فتح میخوانم
و میدانم،
تو روزی باز خواهی گشت



مطالب مرتبط :
» جدایی » شاعر : افشین یداللهی » آلبوم : سلام آخر » خواننده : احسان خواجه امیری
» خواننده : شهرام ناظری » آلبوم : امیر کبیر » آهنگ : تصنیف گریه کن
» خواننده : شهرام ناظری » آلبوم : امیر کبیر » آهنگ : شب از شبهای پاییز است

برچسبها : خواننده - شهرام - ناظری - آلبوم - امیر - کبیر - آهنگ - تصنیف - ریشه - خاک
نوشته شده توسط ایران در آدینه 07 بهمن 1390 ساعت 06:58
» خواننده : شهرام ناظری » آلبوم : امیر کبیر » آهنگ : تصنیف گریه کن | متن ترانه فارسی
گریه کن که گر سیل خون گری، ثمر ندارد
ناله ای که نایند ز نای دل، اثر ندارد
هر کسی که نیست اهل دل، ز دل خبر ندارد
دل ز دست غم مفر ندارد
دیده غیر اشک تر ندارد
زندگی دگر ثمر ندارد
گر زنیم چاک، جیب جان چه باک
مرد جز هلاک، هیچ چاره دگر ندارد
زندگی دگر ثمر ندارد

برچسبها : خواننده - شهرام - ناظری - آلبوم - امیر - کبیر - آهنگ - تصنیف - گریه
نوشته شده توسط ایران در آدینه 07 بهمن 1390 ساعت 06:51
» خواننده : شهرام ناظری » آلبوم : امیر کبیر » آهنگ : شب از شبهای پاییز است | متن ترانه فارسی
شب از شبهای پاییزی ست
از آن همدرد و با من مهربان شبهای اشک آور
ملول و خسته دل گریان و طولانی
شبی که در گمانم من که ایا بر شبم گرید ، چنین همدرد
و یا بر بامدادم گرید ، از من نیز پنهانی
من این می گویم و دنباله دارد شب
خموش و مهربان با من
به کردار پرستاری سیه پوش پیشاپیش ،‌ دل برکنده از بیمار
نشسته در کنارم ، اشک بارد شب
من اینها گویم و دنباله دارد شب

برچسبها : خواننده - شهرام - ناظری - آلبوم - امیر - کبیر - آهنگ - شبهای - پاییز - است
نوشته شده توسط ایران در آدینه 07 بهمن 1390 ساعت 06:48
» جدایی » شاعر : افشین یداللهی » آلبوم : سلام آخر » خواننده : احسان خواجه امیری | متن ترانه فارسی
اگه دستم به جدایی برسه   اونو از خاطره ها خط می زنم
از دل تنگ تموم آدما    ازشب وروز خدا خط می زنم
اگه دستم برسه به آسمون   با ستاره ها قیامت می کنم
نمی ذارم کسی عاشق نباشه   ماهو بین همه قسمت می کنم
وقتی گاهی من ودل تنها می شیم  حرفای نگفتنی رو میشه دید
می شه توسکوت بین مادوتا  خیلی از ندیدنی ها رو شنید
قصه جدایی ما آدما    قصه دوری ما از خودمون
دوری من وتو از لحظه عشق   قصه سادگی گم  شدمون

برچسبها : جدایی - شاعر - افشین - یداللهی - آلبوم - سلام - آخر - خواننده - احسان - خواجه - امیری
نوشته شده توسط ایران در چهارشنبه 05 بهمن 1390 ساعت 22:31
» خواننده : مجید خراطها » ترانه : دلیل رفتن | متن ترانه فارسی

 

نه باورم نمیشه که
تو منو از یاد ببری
تولدم شد بی وفا 
از تو نیومد خبری
چشمای من خشک شد به در
حالا کی بی وفا تره
بال و پرش دادم ولی
دیگه واسم نمی پره
اینو بدون دستای من
گرمی دستاتو می خواد
تورو به عشقمون قسم 
اون روزارم یادت بیاد
حتی دیگه خدامونم 
حتی دیگه خدامونم 
به داد ما نمی رسه
گریه نکن که دستمون
به دست هم نمی رسه
تورو خدا بهش بگین
صبر منم سر اومده
خدا به من بگو چرا
خوشی به من نیومده
بهش بگین سراغشو
از کس و ناکس میگیرم
بهش بگین اگه نیاد
تو انتظارش میمیرم
آخه چرا نگاه اون 
چنگی به دل نمیزنه
میگن یکی تو قلبشه
جونمو آتیش میزنه
فقط خدا ازت می خوام
دست تویه دستاش بذارم
جز آرزویه دیدنیش
هیچ آرزوی ندارم
بازم میگم دوست دارم
کاش عشقمون جون بگیره
برگرد بیا به کلبمون
تا سرو سامون بگیره
ببخش اگه قسمت نشد
تویه چشات نگاه کنم
یا سر رو شونه ات بذارم
اسم تورو صدا کنم
تو هم منو بذار برو
اما بدون رسمش نبود
جز تو آخه کیو دارم
دلیله رفتنت چی بود
اون که نخواست پیشم باشی
باید خودش صبرم بده
خدا گرفتی عشقمو
جواب قلبمو بده
حتی دیگه خدامونم 
به داد ما نمی رسه
گریه نکن که دستمون
به دست هم نمی رسه
تورو خدا بهش بگین
صبر منم سر اومده
خدا به من بگو چرا
خوشی به من نیومده
بهش بگین سراغشو
از کس و ناکس میگیرم
بهش بگین اگه نیاد
تو انتظارش میمیرم
آخه چرا نگاه اون 
چنگی به دل نمیزنه
میگن یکی تو قلبشه
جونمو آتیش میزنه
فقط خدا ازت می خوام
دست تویه دستاش بذارم
جز آرزویه دیدنیش
هیچ آرزوی ندارم
بازم میگم دوست دارم
کاش عشقمون جون بگیره
برگرد بیا به کلبمون
تا سرو سامون بگیره

نه باورم نمیشه که

تو منو از یاد ببری

تولدم شد بی وفا 

از تو نیومد خبری

چشمای من خشک شد به در

حالا کی بی وفا تره

بال و پرش دادم ولی

دیگه واسم نمی پره

اینو بدون دستای من

گرمی دستاتو می خواد

تورو به عشقمون قسم 

اون روزارم یادت بیاد

حتی دیگه خدامونم 

حتی دیگه خدامونم 

به داد ما نمی رسه

گریه نکن که دستمون

به دست هم نمی رسه

تورو خدا بهش بگین

صبر منم سر اومده

خدا به من بگو چرا

خوشی به من نیومده

بهش بگین سراغشو

از کس و ناکس میگیرم

بهش بگین اگه نیاد

تو انتظارش میمیرم

آخه چرا نگاه اون 

چنگی به دل نمیزنه

میگن یکی تو قلبشه

جونمو آتیش میزنه

فقط خدا ازت می خوام

دست تویه دستاش بذارم

جز آرزویه دیدنیش

هیچ آرزوی ندارم

بازم میگم دوست دارم

کاش عشقمون جون بگیره

برگرد بیا به کلبمون

تا سرو سامون بگیره

 

 

ببخش اگه قسمت نشد

تویه چشات نگاه کنم

یا سر رو شونه ات بذارم

اسم تورو صدا کنم

تو هم منو بذار برو

اما بدون رسمش نبود

جز تو آخه کیو دارم

دلیله رفتنت چی بود

اون که نخواست پیشم باشی

باید خودش صبرم بده

خدا گرفتی عشقمو

جواب قلبمو بده

 

 

حتی دیگه خدامونم 

به داد ما نمی رسه

گریه نکن که دستمون

به دست هم نمی رسه

تورو خدا بهش بگین

صبر منم سر اومده

خدا به من بگو چرا

خوشی به من نیومده

بهش بگین سراغشو

از کس و ناکس میگیرم

بهش بگین اگه نیاد

تو انتظارش میمیرم

آخه چرا نگاه اون 

چنگی به دل نمیزنه

میگن یکی تو قلبشه

جونمو آتیش میزنه

فقط خدا ازت می خوام

دست تویه دستاش بذارم

جز آرزویه دیدنیش

هیچ آرزوی ندارم

بازم میگم دوست دارم

کاش عشقمون جون بگیره

برگرد بیا به کلبمون

تا سرو سامون بگیره

 



برچسبها : خواننده - مجید - خراطها - ترانه - دلیل - رفتن
نوشته شده توسط ایران در چهارشنبه 05 بهمن 1390 ساعت 14:58
» خواننده : مجید خراطها » آلبوم : نفرین » ترانه : می دونم بر نمی گردی | متن ترانه فارسی

 

مجید خراطها مهدی ابراهیمی
می دونم ... می دونم بر نمی گردی
قول میدم وقتی که نیستی عکستو بغل نگیرم
قول میدم روزی هزار بار واسه ی اشکات نمیرم
قول میدم وقتی که نیستی پای عشق تو نسوزم
قول میدم در انتظارت چشمامو به در ندوزم
میدونی که خیلی خستم میدونی دلم گرفته
میدونی دوریت عذابه میدونی گریم گرفته
میدونم بر نمی گردی میدونم رفتی که رفتی
دروغ بود هرچی میگفتی میدونم ...
همیشه تو مهربونی واسه این قلب شکسته
واسه این حس غریبم که فقط دل به تو بسته
بیا برگرد اگه قلبم تو رو از خونه نرونده
دیگه از آخر قصه حتا یک لحظه نمونده
حتا یک لحظه نمونده...

مجید خراطها مهدی ابراهیمی

می دونم ... می دونم بر نمی گردی

قول میدم وقتی که نیستی عکستو بغل نگیرم

قول میدم روزی هزار بار واسه ی اشکات نمیرم

قول میدم وقتی که نیستی پای عشق تو نسوزم

قول میدم در انتظارت چشمامو به در ندوزم

میدونی که خیلی خستم میدونی دلم گرفته

میدونی دوریت عذابه میدونی گریم گرفته

میدونم بر نمی گردی میدونم رفتی که رفتی

دروغ بود هرچی میگفتی میدونم ...

همیشه تو مهربونی واسه این قلب شکسته

واسه این حس غریبم که فقط دل به تو بسته

بیا برگرد اگه قلبم تو رو از خونه نرونده

دیگه از آخر قصه حتا یک لحظه نمونده

حتا یک لحظه نمونده...

 



برچسبها : دونم - نمی - گردی - خواننده - مجید - خراطها - آلبوم - نفرین - ترانه
نوشته شده توسط ایران در چهارشنبه 05 بهمن 1390 ساعت 14:56
نوشته هاي پيشين
:: توجه :: براي مشاهده هر پوشه يا مطلب کافيست بروي عنوان آن کليک نمائيد تا باز يا بسته شود
صفحات: [1]  
صفحه بعدي - صفحه شانسي - صفحه قبلي
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