Though we are servants of the King
We are the kings of the morning realm.
With a treasure in our sleeve and an empty purse
We are the mirror of the world and the dust of the road.
Awake and aware, yet intoxicated with pride
We are the sea of unity, yet drowned in sin.
When the witness of fortune plays its tricks
We, like the moon, are the mirror of the face.
Every night, we guard the crown
and the turban of the wakeful king of fortune.
Say that our companionship is precious
For you are asleep and we are at the watchtower.
Mansoor the victorious knows that we
Wherever we set our intention,
We will make our enemies a shroud of blood
And give our friends the robe of victory.
There is no room for hypocrisy before us
We are red lions and black vipers.
Hafez, say that they should repay the loan
You have confessed, and we are pearls.