In these days all look but to their own interests,
Whether it be father or son;
Such indeed is my sons' nature —
I know not if all men's experience is the same.
No regard is his for my rights, or the respect due me;
I know not how such a state of things can have arisen.
He who treats his children with too great indulgence,
How can such an one be deemed wise?
Alas! I know the return my children give me:
All my children are like the Scorpion or the Snake,
Thirty are my sons in number,
How can I tell the number of my grandchildren?
Great and small know this too well,
That each one of these is bent on quarrels.
Yet, again, consider, Aurungzeb,
What a bloodthirsty Tyrant he is!
His father and his brother he has brought to ruin,
And now wields the Sovereignty that was theirs.
Yet that thou art alive and well, Khush-hal,
For this be grateful to thy God!