Why does the prudent man cherish hope in this unlucky abiding place ?
(Why), for God’s sake does he set his heart upon its dominion
Whenever he desires rest for his feet
His doom takes him by the hand and directs him to arise
'Tis but a Tent where takes his one day's rest
A Sultán to the realm of Death addrest;
The Sultán rises, and the dark Ferrásh Strikes,
and prepares it for another Guest.
Au nom de Dieu! dans quelle expectative le sage attacherait-il son coeur aux trésors illusoires de ce palais du malheur? Oh! que celui qui me donne le nom d'ivrogne revienne donc de son erreur, car, comment pourrait-il voir là-haut trace de taverne?
For God's sake, with what hope, in this our world of woe,
Can heedless man his heart upon its good bestow?
No sooner doth he sit him down to rest than, lo!
Death grips him by the hand and bids him rise and go.