Come, O Gardener!
Come to create the glory of a new spring.
A spring in which
the gul will bloom,
the bulbul will sing.

The garden is desolate;
the dew is mourning.
And the gul in torn robes
looks perplexed.

Come, O Gardener!
To rekindle the gul
To rejuvenate the bulbul.

Come, O Gardener!
Weed out the nettle from the flower-beds
And look at row after row of hyacinth,
Come and make a smiling garden.

Who can free a captive bird mourning in his cage?
You must bring your own freedom, O, Gardner!

Wake up, O Gardener, to realize that
power and riches.
Comfort and kingship,
all these are at your feet
only after you realize yourself;
O Gardener!

Come, O Gardener!
to awaken your garden,
to say goodbye to the strains of gul,
to say goodbye to the strains of bulbul;
And-
bring about an earthquake,
bring about a storm,
bring about a rumbling thunder,
bring about a tornado.