Fisherman – Your boat is drifting, Take my hand, bring it ashore. Inalienable hardship at work, Never identified by my hungry fork.
Militia - Your march is tiring, Take my feet and my boots – make your trip. Those icy thorns pricks you everywhere, Ignorant lives here; Let me be there.
Courtesan – There is someone at the door, Tonight let me go, you mend your sore. Happiness sold in this market of deaths, Dream abandoned nights for tasteless breads.
Mother – Don’t let your child grow, Let it be at your breast. Those vultures are flying low; There is still a tomorrow Shamsud If You Enjoyed This Post Please Take 5 Second to shareit.