For me, who has tasted the morning wine, the cloak of piety is forbidden,
O gathering of nobles, show me the path to the tavern of liberation.

Each person in the world has sought their own delight,
But for me, O moon-faced beauty, your sorrow is my only plight.

Arise, let us sit in the shade of a cypress tree,
For wherever you sit, even the cypress bows humbly.

The snare for the hearts of the wise lies in your flowing tresses,
And the mole near your cheek, perhaps, is the bait for this trap, no less.

With a companion like you, in such a place and at this hour,
If I drink wine, it is surely the heavenly nectar, not forbidden power.

Tell the city’s enforcer of morality, beware,
Do not hurl stones in our gathering, for here, the cup is a treasure rare.

Jealousy restrains me from declaring who caused my ruin,
Lest the world should know the beloved’s name, a secret untold in communion.

Alas, we have ripened in this hidden fire of longing,
While the one unaware of our flames remains in their innocence, unknowing.

Saadi, do not despair, even in the jaws of the great sea beasts,
For if you are in the beloved’s gaze, every hardship becomes a feast.