Traveller wipe the tears from your eyes and turn back. Your flowers blossomed within themselves. Traveller, companion wipe your eyes let us go back. O crazy one what misfortune has befallen that you want to build your home on this flood? Yet the thirst for what is here is never quenched hold as you do on to the trivial. Friend wipe your eyes. In the rain when the seasonal flowers did not bloom, do you think that they will bloom now? In this country only wrongdoing occurs, filling ears with hopelessness.  O poet how many occasions will you bring to the festival in order to light the spark of your life? Your gardener never came leaving you abandoned. Traveller, wipe the tears of your face and turn away now.