1. Slain by passions, sorrows haunt him,
In Nishapur he has no intimate friend,

2. A stranger with no kinsman to console him,
No shelter for a lonely man in need.

3. He lingers still in the land of his love,
Kept company by yearning ever-present,

4. Spurred by persistent hopes that never cease,
Clad by a pauper in his tattered dress.

5. A hope for which no matching hope accrues,
It is despair whose outcome can be none but bleak,

6. No wonder that my steps are plagued and hindered
In a land whose fated bird is cursed and weak.

7. I left the West a place I used to hold,
For lands of Syria graced with comforts bounteous,

8. The homeland that I left and parted from
And friends and loved ones left me all so grievous,

9. I lived there spoiled with favors beyond count,
No distress or gloom to me there ever drew near,

10. If to a lowly abode I now am brought
Even the forbearing man is tried, I fear.

11. Blame not another, blame only time for this,
Ordaining as wicked fate is wont to do,

12. If I reproach not time for its caprice,
Who then is there for me to blame thereto?

13. The world offered riches I did not refuse,
But in this world no honorable man exists,