The whispers of these fearful cities tremble in the air.
The eloquence of the land merely waits for an audience.

Shivering, the long nights put to us a haunting question.
Their laden sound-like silence hisses answers.

People span the long night benumbed in sleep.
Distant, the voice of a cuckoo wastes its wisdom.

When sparrows sing in merry tones their meek songs at dawn,
A half-perceived melody contrasts the gloom of being.

When stars hold their watch upon the universe of the night,
Those sunk beyond the horizons bespeak our reversals.

At dawn, evening, midnight; in ever-changing robes
The breeze of my turning world whistles a harbinger.

We are visitors;
And this' our place of sojourn.

O you visitors, do you hear what your sojourn whispers?

Be wakeful…
Be wakeful…
Be wakeful…

Or will we disregard the counsel of the traveling bell?

Nasir!
These tumultuous times reverberate with warnings.
People's cries bring about undoable upheavals.