The king with a cypress-like stature and the sweetest of voices
Whose eyelashes break the hearts of all the valiant

Passed by drunk and cast a glance at me, the dervish
Saying, “O eye and light of all sweet-speakers

How long will your purse be empty of silver and gold?
Become my servant and rise above all your enemies

Be not lower than an atom, be humble, show love
Until you reach the sanctuary of the sun, spinning through the sky

Don’t rely on the world, and if you have a cup of wine
Drink to the joy of the fair-faced ones and the delicate-bodied

My old wine-server, whose soul be happy
Said, “Beware of the company of covenant-breakers”

Take hold of the skirt of a friend and break away from the enemy
Become a man of God and pass freely from the demons

With the morning breeze in the meadow of tulips, I said
“Who are these martyrs, all these bloodstained ones?”

He said, “Hafez, you and I are not privy to this secret
Speak of the ruby wine and the sweet-lipped ones.”