1
Around your sweet songs,
I circle one fixed point—
a pencil’s turning tip.
2
I rose with the dawn;
morning felt so sweet to me—
birds sang in the light.
3
Many troubles fade
when our way of thinking shifts—
we look first within.
4
I climb into bed,
tossing and turning for sleep—
one page, and I doze.
5
Old king, new king—
they ask me which one I choose:
two ears, one donkey.
6
A smile rests on my lips;
behind it, silent sighs remain—
you know not my hidden pain.
7
No one can make him see—
look at Abdullah at another’s wedding;
mad, he circles again.
8
Respect the law a little;
breathe—why raise such a clamor?
The mill turns in its time.
9
Morning fades to night;
new tragedies fill our eyes—
yet dawn returns again.
10
I climb into bed,
tossing and turning for sleep—
one page, and I doze.
