This robe I wear is pawned for the first wine
And this meaningless book is drowned in the first pure wine
Since I've ruined my life so much by looking
I've fallen into a ruined corner of a tavern
Since prudent thinking is far from a dervish
My heart is full of fire and my eyes full of tears
I will not tell people about the state of a saint
If I tell this story, it will be with a lute and a rebab
Until the order of the heavens is completely disrupted
I have the desire for a cupbearer and wine in my hand
I will not, truly, give up my heart for someone like you
How could I bear the burden of those flowing locks?
Hafez, since you've grown old, come out of the tavern
Leave your roguery and flirtation to the time of youth