The arch of my eye's view is your nest

Show grace and descend, for the house is your house

With the grace of mole and down you stole hearts from mystics

Wondrous subtleties lie beneath your trap and bait

May your heart be happy with union with the rose, O morning nightingale

For in the meadow all love-songs are yours

Refer the cure of our weak heart to your lips

For this ruby elixir is in your treasury

In body I fall short of the fortune of attending you

But the essence of my soul is dust at your threshold

I am not one to give heart's coin to any charmer

The treasury door bears your seal and mark

What enchantress are you, O sweet-working knight

That a steed like heaven is tame to your whip

What place am I when the juggling sphere slips

From these tricks that are in the bag of your excuses

Your assembly's song now makes heaven dance

For the poetry of sweet-speaking Hafez is your song