I heard that from a virtuous poor man

A great king's heart was offended.

Perhaps some truth had passed his lips

And the king was angered by his insolence.

He sent him to prison from his court

For the arm of power is a test of strength.

One of his friends secretly told him

'It was not expedient to say what you said.'

Delivering the truth is an act of obedience (to God)

I do not fear prison, for it is but an hour.

At the very moment when this secret went forth

The story reached the king's ears again.

He laughed, thinking he had formed a vain suspicion

Not knowing that he would die in this imprisonment.

A slave took this message to the dervish

Saying, 'Tell the king, O slave,'

I have no burden of sorrow on my wounded heart

For the world is nothing more than this hour.

Neither if you help me will I be joyful

Nor if you behead me will sorrow come to my heart.

If you are prosperous with command and treasure

Another is left behind in weakness and suffering.

When we enter the gate of death

We will become equal within a week.

Do not set your heart on this five-day fortune

Do not burn yourself with the smoke of people's hearts (i.e., by oppressing them).

Did they not hoard more than you before you?

And burn the world with injustice?

Live in such a way that your memory is praised

When you die, not that they curse upon your grave.

One should not establish a bad custom

So that they say, 'A curse upon the one who established this.'

And even if a powerful lord rises to power

Will not the earth of the grave ultimately subdue him?

He ordered, with a displeased face due to the injustice

That they should pull his tongue out from the back of his neck.

Thus said the man who knew the truths

'I have no fear of even what you have said.'

I have no sorrow for being silenced

For I know that He knows what is unsaid.

Whether I endure poverty or oppression

If my end is good, what sorrow is there?

Your time of mourning will be like a wedding

If your end is fortunate.