1. I had mercy on a people whose necks were not bent
Beneath the yoke, yet they thought they had borne it.

2. They clamored at its doors till they fancied
That the length of the din meant their call was effective.

3. Their share in it was like bees' share in the nectar;
To suck what they could from the bitter colocynth.

4. They rushed into seas where its billows were frothed
While the fountain of sweet water was ours and was hid.

5. A lucid signpost, its white finger concealed;
Yet they wandered the mirage that lured their vain eyes.

6. The records were full and the writers weary
Transcribing the words brought them by every chance talker.

7. Opinion and censure were made in one mold—
Few ears as the mouths where crude notions originate.

8. No cloak of instruction, tradition avails them.
No science, no toil brings them gain or achievement.