The Bird’s Complaint
|I am constantly reminded of the bygone times|
Those garden’s springs, those chorus of chimes
Gone are the freedoms of our own nests
Where we could come and go at our own pleasure
My heart aches the moment I think
Of the buds’ smile at the dew’s tears
That beautiful figure, that Kamini’s form
Which source of happiness in my nest did form
I do not hear those lovely sounds in my cage now
May it happen that my freedom be in my own hands now!
|How unfortunate I am, tantalized for my abode I am|
My companions are in the home‑land, in the prison I am
Spring has arrived, the flower buds are laughing
On my misfortune in this dark house I am wailing
O God, To whom should I relate my tale of woe?
I fear lest I die in this cage with this woe!
|Since separation from the garden the condition of my heart is such|
My heart is waxing the grief, my grief is waxing the heart
O Listeners, considering this music do not be happy
This call is the wailing of my wounded heart
O the one who confined me make me free
A silent prisoner I am, earn my blessings free
Translated by: M.A.K. Khalil