The grass has grown, the garden’s bright—
Nowruz has come, a feast of light.
The demon’s tangled, winter hair
has vanished, melted in the air.
Yes, spring returns with scented breeze,
no more the moan of bitter freeze.
Joy has arrived at every door—
love walks with us, alone no more.
Saqi, pour wine and lift this day,
chase all our noisy cares away.
You,...
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