The one who trampled me like dust on the road
I kiss the dust and beg forgiveness for their steps.
I am not one to complain of your cruelty, far from it
I am a faithful servant and seeker of your favor.
I have tied a long hope to the curl of your hair
May it never be that my hand is shortened from seeking.
I am a particle of dust, and your courtyard is a good place for me
I fear, O friend, that a sudden wind will carry me away.
The old man of the tavern gave me the world-seeing cup at dawn
And in that mirror, he made me aware of your beauty.
I am a Sufi of the monastery of the sacred world, but
Now the tavern is my refuge.
Rise up with me, the wayfarer, and come to the tavern
So that you may see in that circle what a high position I hold.
You passed by drunk, and you had no thought for Hafez
Alas, if my sigh catches the hem of your beauty.
I was pleased that the King of the East said at dawn
With all his kingship, he is a slave to his beloved.