None has seen your face yet you have a thousand rivals

You're still in bud yet have a hundred nightingales

If I came to your street it's not so strange

Like me in that land there are thousands of strangers

In love there's no difference between monastery and tavern

Wherever there is, there is the radiance of the beloved's face

There where they display the monastery's work

There is the monastery's bell of the monk and name of the cross

Who became a lover that the beloved didn't regard their state

O master, there is no pain otherwise there is a physician

Hafez's cries, all these are not in vain after all

There is both a strange tale and a wondrous narrative