İnsan acele bir can,
Yükü çok, yolu duman.
Dünya bir misafirhan,
Konan göçer, duran yok.

Korkar son nefesinden,
Bilmez ki korku neden.
Kaçar kendi kendinden,
Aynada yüzü tanımaz.

Mal için sabahlanır,
Şan için gece yanar.
Bir selam çok mu sanır,
Gönül almaya erinir.

Uzaklara el uzatır,
Yakındakini unutur.
Komşu açken susatır,
Vicdanını avutmaz.

Bir çocuk güler geçer,
Görmez, başını çevirir.
Bir kedi önünden geçer,
Merhamet içte uyur.

Ana bekler bir sesini,
Baba dua eder gizli.
Evladın hâlini, yasını,
Sormaya vakit bulunmaz.

Oysa iyilik burada,
Ne gökte ne ötede.
Bir bakışta, bir duada,
Bir sofrada, bir elde.

Acele et ey insan,
Ama hayra acele.
Gönül yap, yıkma zaman,
Bu yol uzun, ömür kısa.

Ne kalır senden geriye?
Bir güzel söz, bir dua.
Malın karışır sele,
Şefkat kalır dünyada.

Bu sözü der bir garip,
Yükü gönül, adı dert,
Hak kapısında fakir,
Mahlası ‘Mahrumi’ der.


ADVICE FOR THE HASTY

Man is a hasty soul,
His burden is heavy, his path is shrouded in smoke.
The world is a guesthouse,
Those who come, leave; no one stays.

He fears his last breath,
But doesn’t know why he fears.
He flees from himself,
He doesn’t recognize his face in the mirror.

He stays up all night for wealth,
He burns at night for fame.
Does he think a greeting is too much?
He is too lazy to win hearts.

He reaches out to distant places,
He forgets those close by.
He makes his neighbor thirsty while they are hungry,
He doesn’t console his conscience.

A child laughs and passes by,
He doesn’t see, he turns his head away.
A cat passes in front of him,
Mercy sleeps within.

A mother waits for his voice,
A father prays secretly.
There is no time to ask about the child’s condition, his grief.

Yet goodness is here,
Neither in heaven nor beyond.
In a glance, in a prayer,
At a table, in a hand.

Hurry, O human,
But hurry for good.
Build hearts, do not destroy them,
This road is long, life is short.

What will remain of you?
A kind word, a prayer.
Your possessions will be swept away by the flood,
Only compassion will remain in this world.

A stranger says these words,
His burden is the heart, his name is sorrow,
A poor man at the door of God,
His nickname is ’Mahrumi’.