I didn't had to see your flowing eyes,
Who're from me far away,
To taste the taste of your sorrowful cries,
Who's stream is a long way.

O streets of cities! Have you drunk more tears
Of the miserable ones,
Than the pearls who are bestowed from out skies,
Every night, every day?

We thought we wouldn't cry in-front the smiles
Of sinister sirens,
Who are the witches of the night and lies,
Full of tricks and of play.

The thick haze of the room are not from smoke
Who are by sweet smiles blown,
But by the bitter mouth who exhales sighs,
Who're never blown away.

Mâhî, the singer laments his own fault
Into a wise lesson,
Didn't he tell you to be smart and wise
At cities where traps stay?