The cloudy rain
The day was bright and good
Yet men recognized the creator
Haven perceived the long standing---
The standing of the final abode
A morning came with clouded top
Handling a two-edged sword
To penetrate the building of all morals
A building from men of intellect and wisdom
Which falls in the hands of a baby
Now at her age of maturity she fall asleep
Totally unconcerned of the cloud’s after mat effect
O little baby who inherited!
Why must you abandon the challenges?
Rise, with supplication and combat
Emerge from your hiding place
And knit the patches of your roof
Made by men in school of thought of Pharaoh
So, when it finally rains,
You are not wet right in your house
But you hide out of fear of death
Losing guarantee for your own moral building
O, what a pity!
The cloud is getting thicker and thicker
And the sword getting nearer and nearer
Yet u feel free from the edges of the sword
Which appears as gold and silver
But apparently of stones and dung
O you bereaved of good morals!
Arise and shin
That your journey back home is blessed
With mercy from the architect of your soul
O you of intellect!
O you of wisdom!
O you inheritor of the moral building!
Uphold your duty on the building
And summon courage in utter state.
The day was bright and good
Yet men recognized the creator
Haven perceived the long standing---
The standing of the final abode
A morning came with clouded top
Handling a two-edged sword
To penetrate the building of all morals
A building from men of intellect and wisdom
Which falls in the hands of a baby
Now at her age of maturity she fall asleep
Totally unconcerned of the cloud’s after mat effect
O little baby who inherited!
Why must you abandon the challenges?
Rise, with supplication and combat
Emerge from your hiding place
And knit the patches of your roof
Made by men in school of thought of Pharaoh
So, when it finally rains,
You are not wet right in your house
But you hide out of fear of death
Losing guarantee for your own moral building
O, what a pity!
The cloud is getting thicker and thicker
And the sword getting nearer and nearer
Yet u feel free from the edges of the sword
Which appears as gold and silver
But apparently of stones and dung
O you bereaved of good morals!
Arise and shin
That your journey back home is blessed
With mercy from the architect of your soul
O you of intellect!
O you of wisdom!
O you inheritor of the moral building!
Uphold your duty on the building
And summon courage in utter state.
