What hearts you’ve stolen, O cupbearer, with your enticing stride,
Alas, if only for a while, I could kiss your captivating side.

How long will your hidden glances release their fatal darts?
Reason has dropped its shield, pierced by your arrowed arts.

You mingle, then vanish; you show, then snatch away,
Oh, the anguish of your harshness, veiled in sweetness, astray.

If sweetness itself had heard your words of honeyed grace,
It would offer King Khosrow’s throne to honor your embrace.

The world might find a moment’s peace, free from chaos and despair,
Were it not for your riotous face and eyes that ensnare.

Who could desire sobriety again after the spell is cast,
When they’ve felt the morning embrace of your arms at last?

Drink deeply, Saadi, from the purest wine, and stay hushed,
For piety holds no place among revelers flushed.