If that fair-handed one would write a letter to us
The pages of our destiny would not be blank
Although separation often bears the fruit of union
Oh gardener of the world, I wish you had not sown this seed
Forgiveness is the immediate reward for one who here
Has a helper like a houri and a palace like paradise
One cannot enjoy luxury on the bench of love
Since there is no golden pillow, let's make one of mud
Do not sell the garden of Arm and the pride of Shedad
For a bottle of wine and a kiss of lips
How long will you grieve over the world, O wise heart?
It is a pity that goodness should become ugly through love
The filth of the robe is the ruin of the world
Where is the path of a pure-hearted lover?
Why did you let go of the ends of your hair, Hafez?
Such was fate, what could you do?