Such a famine occurred in Damascus

That friends forgot about love

The sky became so stingy with the earth

That crops and palm trees did not get wet

The ancient springs dried up

No water remained except the tears of orphans

There was nothing but the sigh of a widow

If any smoke arose from a chimney

I saw a colorless dervish like a tree

Strong in arms, weak and helpless

No greenery in the mountains, no shrubs in the garden

Grasshoppers had eaten the garden, people were like grasshoppers

In that state, a friend came to me

A skin was left on his bones

Although he was rich and strong

He was a lord of position and wealth

I said to him: O friend with pure nature

What distress has come upon you? Tell me

He roared at me: Where is your mind?

When you know and ask, your question is wrong

Do you not see that hardship has reached its peak?

Suffering has reached its limit?

No rain is coming from the sky

Nor is the smoke of cries rising

I said to him: You are not afraid after all

Poison kills where there is no antidote

If another perishes from nothingness

You have everything, what fear do you have of the storm?

The sage looked at me, offended

As a scholar looks at a fool

For although a man is on the shore, O friend

He does not rest if his friends are drowning

I am not pale from poverty

The sorrow of the poor has made my face pale

A wise man does not wish to see a wound

Neither on a person's limb, nor on his own

I am the first among the healthy

When I see a wound, my body trembles

The life of the healthy is bitter

When he is next to a weak patient

When I see that the poor dervish does not eat

The morsel in my mouth is like poison and pain

If someone's friends are in prison

How can he enjoy himself in the garden?