Paroles et traduction Ho3ein feat. Milad S & Justina - Traffic Jensi

Traffic Jensi

خیابون شده ترافیک جنسی
راهنما بوق نگا میشه حسی
حسی که تش تو گشت و آهن و کاغذِ
اون بگا میره فکری
هر نگاه میفهمه دارن بش نظر
قطاری جلوش بنز تا ال نود
اون براش حتی مهم نیست ثروت هم
ایمان قوی نداره به عشق اصلا
اون به هرچی مرد بدبینه
اون گشنه ی حرف سنگینِ
خود ساز ضربه غمگین
تحملش قدر سقف زمینه
چشیده خیانت سن کم
تجربه زود هنگام جلو کرد
حرفش یکی مثل مرد
مدت هاست داده دل به در
همه دوستاش از دم طلاقی
حق با مرد، حقم نداری
صورت چروک کم کم سرازیر
سخته این حسو کردن شفاهی
هرکی اومد ضربه زدو رفت
محکم پشت سرش درو بست و رفت
عشقی نی بشه ختم جرو بحث
چرا کم شده مشق درک و فهم
تکرار تا سر صبح می شه
جلو اینه زده زل میگه
این همه ظلم با من چرا
اولش خوبه عشق تهش شد کینه
لبه پنجره میریخت گلوله برف
خر شد ازش خورد گوله حرف
اعتماد اومد از هوس
دودرفت تو چشاش حالا شده گونه اشک
شهر شلوغی که بو گل نمید
اعتماد نیست کسی رو پول نمیره
حقیقت رو تو حب نمیگه
حاضر بی سر صدا تو عمق بمیره
باور دروغایی که کردش
حبس حقایقو شنید اومد و رفتش
ترس، آزاد کرد اون مرز دلو
گفت سلام برسون اگه مرد هست

تن برام عاره شب برام زاره
من تو دستاشم این برام کار
مرگ من بوی اون تن سرده
این خیابونا تا ابد درده

خودشو کشت همو روز
همو روز که از تو می پاشید
همو روز که واسه چند دقیقه ای
تنو دادو گرفت پول ناچیز
رنگ روژش مث نور آژیر
کوچه رو بست دنبالش بوق ماشین
میزن دست بهش، اما لاله و جیک نمیزنه
چون نونش بنده به دول حاجی
خریدار تنشن نه عشوش
بدجور به خونه همه تشنست
حق داره دنیا بدهکاره بش بد
تک واساده انگار روبرش کشور
کی می تونه داور شه
تقصیر کیه اونم دلش می خواد مادر شه
یه چی بگم،شاید سخت باور شه
ولی بدون یه سریشون میان با بچه
دنیای گوهی، میدونی ؟
اینجا دور دور گل به خودیه، میدونی ؟
هرکی رسید زد نقابی به پیشونیش
چیزی از بازار داغ کلیه میدونی ؟
اینجا خیلی وقت تو خطر
بالا پایین از دورورش گرفتار سرماست
راسش هرچی دزد بی پدر
پره مغز بی هنر ولی بازم ناز خار بدخاش
خدا خیلی وقت خوابیده با دیگران
دلیلشم این همه سوالایه بی جواب
بچه کوچیکی که میگه خواهش
یکی بخر با چشای بی گناهش
میدونی چیه هان منم با این دنیا لجم
با پول لجن با خلق تو پای بشر
صد دفعه کردم سیب وجب
دیگه تشم، بستم به ر کجم

تن برام عاره شب برام زاره
من تو دستاشم این برام کار
مرگ من بوی اون تن سرده
این خیابونا تا ابد درده

Traffic of Lust

The streets are filled with the traffic of lust,
Every honk and stare a spark of desire.
A desire that ignites within steel, flesh, and paper,
As she walks by, lost in her thoughts.
Each gaze, she knows, is directed at her,
A train of Benz to Nissans lining up before her.
But wealth means nothing to her,
She has no faith in love anymore.
Every man she sees, she sees as evil,
She craves a heavy word, a profound connection,
Her own instrument, strumming a sorrowful tune,
Her endurance stretched thin, like the ceiling above.
Betrayal tasted too young,
Early experiences have hardened her, pushing her forward.
Her words hold the weight of a man's,
For too long she has poured her heart out to the wind.
Her friends, all of them, divorced,
Always the man's right, no right for her.
Her face, slowly crinkling, begins to sag,
It's hard to articulate this feeling.
Every man who came, struck her and left,
Slamming the door shut behind him, without a second thought.
No love can end the dispute, the argument,
Why has compassion and understanding diminished?
The cycle repeats until dawn,
She stands before the mirror, staring,
Asking why all this injustice has befallen her.
Love starts sweet, but ends in bitterness,
Snowballs were thrown from the window's edge,
She was ridiculed, bombarded with hurtful words.
Trust was built on lust,
Smoke filled her eyes, now tears stream down her cheeks.
A bustling city that offers no fragrance of flowers,
No trust exists, money cannot buy it,
The truth remains hidden, lost in passion,
Ready to silently drown in the depths, she disappears.
Clinging to the lies she believed,
Imprisoned truths were heard, he came and left.
Fear, freed her heart's boundaries,
"Say hello, if you're a real man," she said.

My body is a burden, the night a torment,
I'm in his hands, this is my fate.
My death smells of that cold body,
These streets will forever be filled with pain.

She killed herself every day,
Every day that she faded away from you,
Every day that for a few minutes,
She gave her body and received paltry money.
The color of her lipstick like the flashing lights of a siren,
The alley closed, car horns chasing after her.
They touch her, but she remains silent, not a whimper,
Because her bread is tied to the whims of these men.
They buy her body, not her love,
She's desperately thirsty for a home,
She has the right, the world owes her a great debt,
She stands alone, as if facing a nation.
Who can be the judge?
Whose fault is it, she desires to be a mother too.
Let me tell you something, it might be hard to believe,
But without a man, they come with children.
A fucked up world, you know?
It's all own goals here, you know?
Everyone who comes puts on a mask,
Do you know anything about the black market for kidneys?
It's been dangerous here for a long time,
From top to bottom, its inhabitants trapped in coldness.
The truth is, every fatherless thief,
Their minds are filled with mediocrity, yet they still have the audacity to boast.
God has been asleep for a long time, with others,
The proof is in all these unanswered questions.
A small child, voicing his wish,
"Someone buy me," he pleads with innocent eyes.
You know what, I'm also angry with this world,
With its filthy money, with mankind's creation.
A hundred times I've measured apples by hand,
I'm exhausted, I've tied myself to my own exhaustion.

My body is a burden, the night a torment,
I'm in his hands, this is my fate.
My death smells of that cold body,
These streets will forever be filled with pain.