|I should procure such straws for my nest from somewhere|
For burning which the lightning may be restless
|Alas! O despair! The sky broke it down intently|
Whichever branch I selected for my nest
|You are contending with the seventy two nations|
One goblet of yours suits the whole world best
|I should create some such longing in my heart|
So the sky may turn around to annihilate me best
|Collect your harvest first by picking it grain by grain|
Some thunderbolt will surely come out to annihilate it
|I had regard for the failure of the hunter, O friend|
Otherwise, why could I come over flying for one grain?
|The heart should not sing freedom’s song in this garden|
Ah! This garden is not suitable for such odes.
Translated by: M.A.K. Khalil