Who am I?

Who am I, you ask?
The Kurd of Kurdistan,
a lively volcano,
fire and dynamite,
in the face of enemy.
When furious,
I shake the mountains,
the sparks of my anger,
are death to my foes.
Who am I?

I am the proud Kurd,
the enemies' enemy,
the friend of peace-loving ones.
I am of noble race,
not wild as they claim.
My mighty ancestors,
were free people.
Like them I want to be free,
and that is why I fight,
for the enemy won't leave in peace,
and I don't want to be forever oppressed.
Who am I?

I shall free my land,
from the tyrants;
from the corrupt Shah and Mollas,
from the Turkish juntas,
so we may live free,
like other nations,
so my gardens and meadows,
are mine again;
So I can join the struggle,
for the good of mankind.
Who am I?

Yes, I am the Kurd,
the Kurd of Kurdistan,
who is poor and oppressed today.
My castles and forts,
are now demolished;
my name and my fame,
swindled by my assailants,
those who set germs into my body,
to paralyze my existence,
making a nameless soul of me;
a nation with no friends.
Who am I?

I am the one who despite it all,
remains the unyielding Kurd;
still formidable to the enemy.
The smell of dynamite is again in my nostrils,
and in my heart the strong desire to erupt.
I am the fighting valiant of mountains,
who is not in love with death,
but for the sake of life and freedom,
he sacrifices himself,
so that the land of his ancestors,
the invincible Medes;
his beloved Kurdistan, may become unchained.
Who am I?

I am the maker of Newroz;
again I shall become my own master,
the ruler of my land,
so I may enjoy the fruits of my orchards,
relish the sacred wines of my vineyards
and put an end to a dark era,
by seeking salvation in knowledge and science;
I shall make another new day,
and breathe the pure air of the liberty.
Who am I?

I am the son of Lor, Kelhor and Kurmanc,
who have lost crown and reign,
to become powerless,
betrayed in the name of religion,
to carry rosaries in their hands,
duped by the rulers,
deprived of might and wealth,
fighting each other, divided and torn,
while my oppressed Kurdistan,
my wretched Kurdistan,
remains prossessed.
Who am I?

The son of the Kurdish nation,
awaken from deep sleep,
marching forward,
proud as a lion,
wanting the whole world to know;
I shall struggle and continue the path to freedom;
I shall learn from great men,
Like Marx and Lenin.
I make a vow to my ancestors,
to Salar, Shergo and Deysem,
that this of mine will remain vigorous, unyielding, stronger than death.
Let it be kown;
I announce with no fear;
Liberty is my goal;
I shall advance in this path.
Who am I?

I am not blood thirsty;
no, I adore peace.
Noble were my ancestors;
sincere are my leaders,
We don't ask for war but demand equality,
but our enemies are the ones who betray and lie.
Friendship I seek and offer my hands,
to all friendy nations.
Long live Kurdistan;
death to the oppressor!