I’ll tell you a captivating secret, look at that moon-faced one’s mole
See how reason and soul are chained to that lock of hair

I blamed my heart for being wild and unruly
It said, “Look at the lion-capturing eyes and the coquetry of that gazelle”

The curl of her hair is a theater for the morning breeze
A hundred lovers’ souls are tied to a single hair there

The worshippers of the sun are oblivious to our beloved
O you who reproach, for God’s sake, don’t look away, see that face

The wind has tied a noose around the neck of her heart-stealing locks
See the Hindu trick she plays on the travelers of the path

No one has ever seen, and no one will ever see,
the likes of me, so detached from myself in my search for her

It is right for Hafiz to lament in the corner of a prayer niche
O you who give advice, for God’s sake, look at that arched eyebrow

O sky, do not turn your head away from the desire of the Shah Mansur
Look at the sharpness of the sword, the strength of the arm