Rise, let us cast aside this blue robe of hypocrisy,
And scatter to the winds the pretense called piety.

Each moment, a new idol drags people to worship it—
Reveal to us true oneness, so we may shatter these idols.

Wine with the young calls to me as a desire—
Even as children chase this old drinker of bitter dregs.

From the depths of nothingness, a speck can become a human,
And the delusion of greatness can turn a man into a beast.

In this confined space of solitude, my heart longs for the open fields,
Where the morning breeze brings fragrant messages from the garden.

Be mindful, if you are wise, understand if you are a lover—
For such days as these may never return again.

Where the cypress of the garden strides on wooden feet,
We too shall bring that silver-bodied cypress to the dance.

My beloved, faithless though dear to my soul and calming to my heart—
No, do not call her my peace, for she has stolen my peace away.

For her, I’ve lost the world, my faith, patience, and reason—
Where the sovereign sets camp, there is no space for the common.

Rains of tears pour from me, and fire leaps from my clouds—
Speak these words to the seasoned, for such fire does not touch the unripe.

Saadi hears no blame, even if his life is at stake for this love—
Bring the cup, O Cupbearer, and end the Sufi’s weariness.