Go to your own business, O preacher, what is this outcry

My heart has strayed from the path, what is it to you

Between that which God has created from nothing

Is a subtlety that no creature has unraveled

Until their lips like the reed bring me to desire

The advice of all the world is wind in my ear

The beggar of your street is free from need of the eight heavens

The captive of your love is free from both worlds

Though love's intoxication has ruined me, yet

The foundation of my being is from that prosperous ruin

Heart, don't lament the beloved's injustice and tyranny, for the beloved

Made this your portion and this is from that justice

Go, don't tell tales and don't cast spells, Hafez

For I remember much of these tales and spells