1. How is the breeze when our Lord has sworn
By time, the human is losing indeed!

2. The days allotted to pass him by
Share as if they were equal in might and need

3. Seven alike as goblets they are
Matching in wealth and dearth, agreed

4. Similar in what they exact from the lad
A soul whom poverty has stamped its deed

5. Of wonders, I bear them, hoping for death
To free my shackles and captive steed

6. Each instant, early or late, death takes
Approaching or leaving, it pays no heed

7. From all six directions, no knock does it make
Once from my right and once from my left, indeed

8. No more would the Asadi boast of his doves
After battle, neither crest nor steed