Sufis of sixty or seventy years old,
Little time is left for your moon and sun to set.
Foxes not seeing a hound in the deserts and valleys
Will wish to kill a sleeping lion.
A crow will say, “There is no falcon like me,”
If thousands of crows gathered together they won’t be worthy of a single hawk,
A yellow lizard which curses the Sun,
Is getting ready to swallow a dragon.
A single mountain deer won’t let a hundred badgers hunt it.
A single lion’s cub won’t let ninety foxes catch it.
A dead snake won’t let a hundred lizards swallow itself
Will our brain be capable of understanding these things?
Even at seventy they won’t forget repentance,
They will flirt joyfully with unfaithful women,
If infidels destroy the Kaaba with revenge,
A disbeliever will go and sell its logs.
Just have a look at this epoch, the turning world,
Their objective is just to torture the poor,
Even a dervish following the path of God,
Isn’t given a chance to rest.
My heart knows no tolerance, no patience.
It’s an evil thing for a man to mistrust a man;
Being tired of this world,
I am ready to abandon it for good.
Magtymguly says, now I know my luck is wretched;
My rumors are strong; my destiny is a failure.
My intention is Kaaba and my wish is to go on a pilgrimage,
I have zeal to fulfill my obligation for a pilgrimage.