I'Ll Hide In Song After Song

To-day my pensive mood I'll hide in song after song I'll expose my soul turning the thorny wound into a flower, To forget your neglect I will sing all the while The greater the shocks the more tuneful my violin. If absent-mindedly the flower is torn I'll make a garland of it And give it to you as a gift when you arrive By the fountain of my tunes I'll compose divine music You'll bathe in the stream of those tunes and arise I'll strike a rhyme out of word after word, oh poet are you content now. Your mind is desolate, your empty, your soul without joy. [Original: Aji gane gane dhakbo; Translation: Abu Rushd]