If a sword rains down in the alley of that moon-faced one
We shall offer our necks, saying "God's will be done"
We know the ways of piety too
But what can we do with such a misguided fate?
We know fewer sheikhs and preachers
Than we know the wine cup or a short story
I am a rogue and a lover in the season of flowers
To repent then? God forgive me
Your love has not cast a reflection upon us
The mirror of dreams, alas for your heart
Patience is bitter, and life is fleeting
Oh, I wish I could certainly recite a poem
Hafiz, why complain if you desire union?
You must drink blood, sometimes and always