O Bulbul!

O bulbul we are brothers.

Yet, my brother, we are not alike;

You live to sing,

and I swallow patience and ruminate humiliation.

Your rosy heart is an enchanting tune.

And in my heart is the fire and smoke.

And when our bodies disappear

inside ground, and time passes us,

you become a memory, a dust,

a breeze or an echo

swaying in paradise.

While your faithful brother chews agonies

in his shrouds, moment after moment.

Then what… Ah of when the

soul returns and the Two Angels come.

How.. what… where… when… are…

Will they ask tenderly or cruelly?

That all at tomorrow … Ah of tomorrow!

And I see after tomorrow the bitterness of speech

Ah! How happy the ground's atoms are!

Ah! How delighted the animal's heart is!

I wish I had been a lifeless being

I wish I had been an illusion

that can't be contained by a place

O God I am a sinful slave.

God, bestow upon me some peace

Salma