O cupbearer, it's a cloudy spring day by the stream
I won't say what to do, you, being a man of heart, tell me

The scent of sincerity doesn’t arise from this picture
Wash the Sufi's dirty robe with pure wine

The world is base, don't rely on its kindness
O world-seer, don’t expect steadfastness from the base

I give you two pieces of advice, listen and take a hundred treasures
Enter the door of pleasure and don’t seek fault on the way

Be thankful that you've reached spring again
Plant the root of goodness and seek the path of inquiry

You seek the face of the beloved, make the mirror worthy
Otherwise, a rose or jasmine will never bloom from iron and copper

Listen, for the nightingale cries out
Master, don’t blame yourself, the flower has the grace to smell

You said that our Hafez smells of hypocrisy
Praise be to your spirit, for you have smelled it well