He who comes across my prayer will grow like a flower,
There is no better time than the season of flowers,
The fire of my anger is capable of turning everything into ashes,
One won’t find any blossoming garden among those ashes.
A soul is temporary; the dead body is in its eternal home;
My soul is looking for inspiration; my heart is in pain;
My thoughts are of maturity, my eyes are looking for bravery;
Because of my severe terms not a single brave man is found.
Serve the gracious Allah with all your heart,
Don’t be misled by wealth and gambling.
A human is a guest in the house of the world,
One day will come, that guest won’t be found in this house.
Don’t slumber in the dark of the night, wake up
Whatever you give, give it yourself
Prepare for death when you’re alive
One day will come; this soul won’t be found in this body.
Wherever I go to please my soul,
It finds only strife, hostility and wrangling,
Sermons are not preached, the Quran is not read,
No good manners or tact to please the soul are found.
I have a lot of supplications, my complaints and moans are endless;
My fate is hopeless, my body is weak.
I hide from gatherings, desire only loneliness,
But I cannot find a place where I can be in peace.
Magtymguly, the soul has given fate its body;
If one can resist temptation it is a deed of praise.
Oh, what a dreadful thing it is not to understand the pain,
No remedy will be found for the pain of youth.