On the morning of thy birth
We were glad but thou wert wailing,
See that when thou leav’st the earth
Thou art glad and we bewailing.
Let me speak unto thy heart,--
List if thou hast understanding;
Keep thyself from fools apart,
All their flatteries withstanding.
For the fool, like fire and heat,
Scorcheth everything, and burneth;
But the wise, like water sweet,
Deserts into gardens turneth.
Nahapet Kouchak (died 1592). I assume that the translator is Zabelle Boyajian.
