نَظَرَت دودَةٌ تَدُبُّ عَلى الأَرضِ

إِلى بُلبُلٍ يَطير وَيَصدَح

A worm crawling upon the ground looked up

At a nightingale flying and chanting its song,

فَمَضَت تَشتَكي إِلى الوَرَقِ الساقِطِ

في الحَقلِ أَنَّها لَم تُجَنَّح

And went complaining to the fallen leaves

In the field, that it had not been granted wings.

فَأَتَت نَملَةٌ إِلَيها وَقالَت

اِقنَعي وَاِسكُتي فَما لَكِ أَصلَح

Then an ant came to it and said:

"Be content and hush, for your state is better;

ما تَمَنَّيتُ إِذ تَمَنَّيتُ إِلّا

أَن تَصيري طَيراً يُصاد وَيُذبَح

You have wished for nothing, when you made your wish,

But to become a bird that is hunted and slaughtered.

فَاِلزُمي الأَرضَ فَهيَ أَحنى عَلى الدودِ

وَخَلّي الكَلامَ فَالصَمتُ أَريَح

So cleave to the earth, for she is kinder to worms,

And abandon speech, for silence brings more peace."