Intoxicated by the cup of love, O wine-server, give me wine
Fill the cup, for without wine, the gathering has no life
The description of her moon-like face cannot be contained in a veil
O musician, play a new tune, O wine-server, give me wine
My waist has become so thin that from now on my rival
Will not expel us from this door by any means
In anticipation of your face, we and hope
In the coquetry of your union, we and imagination and dreams
Intoxicated by those two eyes of mine, where is a cup?
Sick from those two corals, finally, there is no reply
Hafez, why do you place your heart in the imagination of beauties?
When will the thirsty one be satisfied from the glimmer of a mirage?