The mind is a road block on the journey, O son.
The road is wide open; untie this bond, tear it, O son.
The mind is a road block on the journey, O son.
The road is wide open; untie this bond, tear it, O son.
At night, I turned around the city like wind, running like water
How can sleep overcome the one who walks around the city in darkness?
The mind is the one who wants to have everything in order.
Don’t ask for reason or manners from the drunk.
Ergin, Rubailer, V.98, p. 197