O you who permit the lovers' exile
You separate lovers from your presence
You give the thirsty of the desert the water of the sea
In the hope that you will keep faith on this path
You stole my heart and healed me, O my life, but
It’s better than this worldly gaze that you keep on me
Our cup, which others drink,
We cannot tolerate if you permit it
O fly, the Simorgh's court is not your playground
You make your complaint and burden us
You are deprived of this door due to your own fault
Why do you complain and cry out?
Hafez seeks service from kings
What hope of a gift do you have without trying?