I’m to serve; may serve the person rightly,
Of any service regards not himself worthy,
One has to go through station after station,
Only then may one reach the destination.

Iron has turned red but is not red actually,
Borrowed reflection of fire shining casually (1)
Windows and walls declare lit we are anyway,
Reckon them not! The sun is shining bright that day.

Even if they insist we are emanating on our own
No reflection dawning upon us is ever shown.
The sun would exclaim: Oh, the misguided
When I’ll set only then you will acknowledge

If the garden would say, look, everything is green,
We are smiling, bright, beautiful, and serene.
Spring would proclaim: O the created one!
Watch thyself clearly when I am but gone.

Body is duly proud of its beauty and is wanton;
Soul hath its wealth and grandeur but hidden,
Remarks to the body: What is thy worth? O hallow.
You have lived comfortably for years in my shadow.

Whole world cannot hold thy charisma and vanity,
Wait! for the moment when I’m departed from thee.
Your friends themselves shall prepare a grave for you;
Hurriedly, in the dark pit, they would like to throw you.

When thy friends shall have thee buried in grave,
Thou shall be served as food to ants and snakes.
Everyone shall close their nose, even those,
Even who regarded you dearer than their souls

Spirit gives life to the eye, tongue, and the ear,
The fire brings boil to water; the pot is to bear.
Just as the soul doth affect the body inherently
The Abdal may affect my spirit very secretly.

When the spirit of the soul shall itself withdraw
Be ready! Soul like a body would be a lifeless claw.
I prostrate on earth just for the reason clear.
On Doom’s Day, it may be my witness bear.

On Doom’s Day, when earth shall be quaking
The sole witness it shall be to all the shaking.
She will speak autonomously, fearing none
The earth shall narrate tales about everyone.