We are the prisoners,
Dwell in the cycles,
We are frightened to peep,
Peer out of them.
What a strange experience it is!
To journey in the rings,
We stop wherefrom we begin,
Journeying not a single inch,
Like an ox rounding the Persian wheel
With the bandage upon the eyes.

When we are trapped in the cycles,
They become the whole universe,
The ensnared spend the whole life,
Amid the troubles,
Deployed around the rings.

It is tragedy of the age, so-called modern,
We all have fixed ourselves,
Our minds and thoughts in the cycles,
And dare not peek out afar,
Into the calamities of others,
Dwelling in other circular zones.