Make small gems,

Don't get angry.

There will always be houses,

Otherwise the car will be crushed.

You are my little gold,

And don't be angry.

You will learn to read and write,

There will be many famous and expensive.

Fill my chest,

There will be no more sorrow.

My daughter Hajera,

Pigeons of pride.

His anger in small words,

Who will explain the wire anymore.

Grandmother's house,

grandmother's house,

Just rolling Tyra tied to the head,

Like the pigeons of Sadh

I want to go on the street,