1. If I have passed fifty pilgrimages
And have not achieved any good, death becomes my veil

2. I do not expect, though tribulations are many
Anything from fate but to be clad in rags

3. Enough of the tales about Qayl son of 'Itr and his kin
No matter what is said of Qayl and his father 'Itr

4. Our mother, this world, has turned hostile towards us
We have nothing from her but shreds from all directions

5. We are like the waves of the sea with naught between us
And destruction but an arm's length or less