Fate was cunning with the entire world;
Do not trust my will into the hands of fate.
If the bird of my soul flies in whatever direction,
Don’t deprive it of wings, tail or feathers.
He who has no wealth is gullible, but the one who has all always complains.
If seven men are ignorant, one is willing.
Rich men like to talk nonsense, old people like to boast.
You cannot get rid of the gray within the barrel of white paint, once it gets there.
It is not an easy thing for a man to be the leader of a horde,
One wearing silk and silver will attract the attention of many girls and boys,
An elderly woman will look gracious to a widower’s eyes,
He will look around noticing even the blind and lame.
The wheel of fortune turned to its left,
All human beings, coming to this world, confront endless suffering,
Seventy two nations being all apart,
Don’t dare to take one part to add to the other.
If I die on the road and if they throw me there,
I do not mind being walked over,
If they remember me and say: “Magtymguly,”
The eyes will cause cracks on the ears that have heard of me.