Hey, friends! My own brother
Turned in pursuit against me.
My beloved wife Mengli,
Hopelessly crying, turned to grief.
The infidels captured Ibrahim, no matter what,
He is in the hands of the ill-intentioned,
They tied him up and threw him into the fire,
Into a blossoming orchard turned on fire.
They gave little, took much,
They turned into evil usurers,
They came putting on many looks,
And many turned to hysterics.
The envious are reigning freely,
Scholars got more spoiled with every passing year,
Forgetting about doomsday,
Everybody turned into usurers.
Ismail sacrificed his son, women became
Shamelessly immoral with every passing year,
With no one willing to work humbly,
An entire nation turned into idlers.
Mountains lived since long ago,
Beautiful buildings were destroyed,
If one day an order comes from Heaven,
An angel Israfil turned into a zurna.
Judges and rulers did not follow the law,
Did not look for the true cause of the problem,
Did not have any mercy for the unfortunate,
They hung, shot and turned into arrows.
Respectable people turned toward ill-intentions,
Mountain tops are covered with clouds,
All those who were cowards are safe and sound,
And brave men descended into disarray.
People do not have even a grain of courage,
Many buildings have turned into ruins,
That racehorse with daffodil-like beautiful eyes
In the hands of cowards became a donkey.
Pyragy, please, stay innocent,
Learn from the strong and the brave,
My sweetheart, come, let’s go,
My wonderful native land has turned to grief.