1. Like fledglings of the sparrow
Black-faced, as black as a cooking pot

2. Winter came, and they were delighted
With neither shirt nor wrap

3. Until the pillar of dawn appeared
And morning came to me, I set out quickly

4. Some clinging to my chest
Some curled up against my wall

5. I race them to the roots of walls
This is the whole of my tale and my matter

6. So have mercy on my dependents and take over my matter
I nicknamed myself in my poetry

7. I am the father of poverty and the mother of poverty