Sonny, listen to a tale, Which wasnít ever in print - Itís about a big bale Brought on by guests unbidden, Itís about an escape And a trapís deadly grip... Sonny, listen to a tale, And donít thou fall asleep. And thereís also some stuff I have no wish to rake, But it troubles me sometimes, Falls on and suffocates. Yet at night, thereís no reason To re-open those old deeds... Itíll be better for thee To see thy happy dreams.
Itís, dear sonny, thy old man - He knows what is what. He saw various contexts, And knew lots of folks.
© Akbar Muhammad. Translation, 2016