Oh, how tired, how exhausted I am from the day’s sorrows
I am so weary of my body with the sudden sorrows of the night
There is not a night I don’t dream of punishments and executions
There is not a day I don’t catch sorrow from the hands of my enemies
Sorrow becomes my guest, in the square frame of my room
So now, I bemoan my life and my existence
Yet in this strange country, they won’t let me settle
There will be a day I will be free from this lucklessness
I have decided not to listen to any news
Every wire that transfers news to my home, I will cut
© Hama Jaza. By arrangement with the author. Translation © 2014 by Hakar Dlshad. All rights reserved.
This copy is for your personal, noncommercial use only. You can order presentation-ready copies for distribution by contacting us at email@example.com.