Thou hadst no need to follow the wild bull.
Oh, groan not, Sia-Manto, groan not so!”
“My Guje-Zare,” from below he called,
“Weep not! Thy wailing causes me more pain
Than this curst oak trunk.”
“But thou groanest there,
My Sia-Manto, and shall I not weep?
Thy groans, that pierce my heart, call forth my tears.
There is a great storm on Mount Ararat.
Here are thy bow and arrow, O my love.