Urmia, the land of hyacinth & lilies,
The crown jewel flower amongst all cities.
Factories full of sugar, plenty lands pleasant & serene;
Peaceful be the mountains, fruitful the fields evergreen.
Gardens of apples, grapes and fruits of all colors,
Shared at the feast along our sisters and brothers.
Spread across our tables, the pearly white Lavash breads,
Butter, milk cream, smooth honey like silk threads,
The golden hue of Hasanbeyk melons in the garden beds,
All owed to Lady Lake; her mirrored waters held the heavens near,
Where winged flocks traced their paths and held her dear,
Soft winds would sing and echo across her silver tides,
Her abode-- a boundless calm of land and sky allied.
Where the waters kissed the waiting shores,
A salted wound lies bare, now she breathes no more.
Once reflecting the sky, countless birds in flight,
Now cracked and pale, blinded, brittle and white.
The winds bear gusts of dust, of bitter brine;
A poisoned breath upon the vibrant vine.
Stand strong, while the lake remembers our name;
Restore with hands, not words, lest we share the blame.