Paroles et traduction Bahram - Delnevesht

Delnevesht

اين يه جنگ بين منو عقايد مردمم
رنگ قلم رو ورقه فوايد درد و غم
همه اشعار مي ره به حساب سرگذشت
يه بيت مي نويسم يه کتابه ترجمش
بنويسم از زخم زبوناي خونواده
يا از ناخالصي هايي که موجود تو نژادت
تو منو ديدي تو خيابون سرم پايينه
سلاح من قلمه همه خطرم با اينه
پاهام سنگينه مي بينم روزي رو که
نوک خنجر تو هم به خون بدنم رنگينه
چون سوادشو دارم که کلمات و با هم
جوري بچينم که بدوني توانشو دارم
دستم زحمت کشيد راهش هموار بشه
حرفم مي خواد با کلام خدا همکار بشه
طرفدار امروز دشمن سابقم
يه لشکر آدمه پشتمه ظاهرا
مي گي از غم بوده بهرام هر بار نوشتي
تو صبح و از يه آدم بدخواه گرفتي
واسه شنيدن حرفام سرتو خم کن
اين آهنگ درگوشيه يکم صداشو کم کن
د بازم اشک چشاتو داري با من مي باري
که عکس منه تو اتاقت کاغذ ديواري
فلاش دوربينت تو صورتم ارزش داره
بهرام تنهاي ديروز امروز ارتش داره
اگه زخم صدام يا که اخم نگام به خاطره اينه
اول تو دخمه صدام شکل گرفتو
اومديم از زير زمين
که الان اسلحه به سمتمون مي گيره کمين
همه الان ازم منتظره لغزشن
تا زير بار سختيا منم خم بشم
زيرش بددلي خوابه يه جفت کفشي که پامه
آخه رپ واسه ما نبوده يه تفريح سالم
که خيلي چيزا سُلفيديم توي اين راه
خون و اشک قاطي کرديم ما توي اين کار
حرفاي توي دل منم مي شه سبب
که يه هدفن تو گوش باشه ، قلم جيب عقب
و توي 24 ساعت اين کار منه
چون غمي نيست و باز راهت مثال تنت
وقتي که مرده تو قبره و اسوده خفته
بگو بي خيال اين دنيا مثل چاقوي کنده
زجرکش مي کنه تو رو بي رحمه مي دوني
ولي بازم يکي حرفتو مي فهمه مي خوني
ديگه جايي نگو بهرام چرت نوشت و
دري وري نبود حرفام ، دل نوشت بود...

Delnevesht

This is a war between me and the beliefs of my people
The color of the pen on the paper benefits the pain and sorrow
All the poems go to the account of the biography
I write a verse and it is a book translation
I write about the wounds of the family tongue
Or from the impurities that exist in your race
You saw me in the street with my head down
My weapon is a pen, my danger is with this
My legs are heavy, I see the day that
The tip of your dagger is also stained red with my blood
Because I have the literacy to make words
Sort together so you know I have the capacity
My hands worked hard to smooth its path
My words want to collaborate with God's words
Today's supporter, my former enemy
There is an army of people behind me, it seems
You say that Bahram was because of sadness every time you wrote
In the morning and from a malevolent person
Bend your head to listen to my words
This song is whispering, turn down its volume
D again your eyes are shedding tears with me
That my picture is in your room on the wallpaper
Your camera's flash in my face is worth it
Bahram who was alone yesterday has an army today
If the wound is my voice or the frown of my gaze is because of this
First, my voice took shape in your dungeon
We came from underground
That now a gun is pointed at us in ambush
Everyone is now waiting for me to slip
So that I also bend under the hardships
Underneath it, a pair of shoes I'm wearing is treacherously asleep
Because rap was not a healthy hobby for us
That many things were sulfide on this path
We mixed blood and tears in this work
The words in my heart can also be a cause
That a target is in the ear, a pen in the back pocket
And this is my work in 24 hours
Because there is no sorrow and again your path is like your body
When a man is in the grave and sleeps peacefully
Say indifferent to this world, like a blunt knife
It tortures you, you know it is cruel
But again someone understands your words, you read
Don't say anymore that Bahram wrote nonsense
My words were not nonsense, they were written with heart...