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Your poor servants present a petition:
The conditions have become unbearable
The innocent ceased attending the school
May you exist in the prayers of the innocent, my lord.
A barn is built in front of the school
All its students have been sent back
Demolished were the houses of those who resisted
May you provide us with the remedy, my lord.
The tax collectors ask for fines
They do not record what we give
The misery is spread everywhere
May you help your servants, my lord.
Evening falls, the collectors reappear
They find an excuse with every poor servant
And weekly take three hundred kuruş
May you know our trials, my lord.
They recruited soldiers
Those who refused were recorded
Over three hundred of your people are robbed
May you know the peasants´ trials, my lord.
Around seventy men are imprisoned
The sinless were accused
The deputy imam became the cause
May you know your slaves´ trials, my lord.
We are taken to court by seventy men.
The trials of your servant peasants were heard.
Three people were registered as witnesses.
May you have mercy on us, my lord.
The son of Kara Molla intervened
He found salvation for six bags of coins
Peasants are asked for tax by force
May you know the cruelty towards us, my lord.
Thirty bags of coins were fined
Those who have five fields were left with two
Akbet Deveci Osman came to grief
May you get payback from the others, my lord.
You conquered a castle like Niş
You took revenge on the infidels
Your warriorship have found fame in the world
May you avenge your slaves, my lord.
Help me, forgive my mistakes
Here I note down the date
There is no end to your grace
Mehemmed, your poor slave, my lord.
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