The famed messenger who arrived from the land of the beloved,
Brought a charm for my soul from the musk-scented line of the beloved.
It gladly gives signs of the majesty and beauty of the beloved,
And sweetly tells tales of the honor and dignity of the beloved.
I gave my heart upon hearing the good news, yet I feel ashamed,
For offering my counterfeit coin of love as tribute to the beloved.
Thanks be to God that, with the aid of a generous fate,
All affairs now align with the desires of the beloved.
What say does the revolving heavens or the moon’s orbit have?
They spin and turn according to the will of the beloved.
Even if the storm of turmoil should ravage both worlds,
I and the light of my eyes remain on the path, awaiting the beloved.
O morning breeze, bring me the jewel-like kohl,
From that blessed dust that became the path of the beloved.
We stand at the threshold of love, with heads bowed in need,
Waiting to see who will be graced by the sweet sleep in the embrace of the beloved.
What fear if the enemy speaks ill of Hafez with malicious intent?
Thanks to God, I am not ashamed before the beloved.