Horossan has one such door, they tell me,
On the threshold roses line the floor
And a pensive peri there is dwelling.
Horossan has one such door, they tell me,
But it did not yield to me, that door.
In my hands and arms I've strength in plenty,
There is gold and copper in my hair.
Pretty is the peri's voice - and gentle,
In my hands and arms I've strength in plenty
But that door I could not open there.
It's no use to me in love - my hardihood.
Why persist? Who am I singing for?
If cool Shaganeh cared not a farthing
That I could not open wide her door,
It's no use to me in love - my hardihood.
Back to Russia I must go - it's time.
Am I really parting from you, Persia?
Am I evermore your land deserting
For the love I bear the land that nursed me?
Back to Russia I must go - it's time.
Farewell, darling peri, don't forget me.
What if that door did not yield to me?
You taught me to suffer and be patient,
I shall sing your praises in my country.
Farewell, darling peri, don't forget me.