As long as there are taverns and the name of wine

Our heads will be dust on the path of the old Magian

The ring of the old Magian is in our ears from eternity

We are as we were, and the same will be

When you pass by our grave, ask for high ambition

For it will be a pilgrimage site for the rogues of the world

Go, O self-righteous ascetic, for from your and my eyes

The secret of this veil is hidden and will remain hidden

My lover-killing Turk left drunkenly today

To see whose blood will flow from the eyes next

My eyes, when out of longing for you, they rest in the grave

Will watch until the dawn of the Day of Resurrection

If Hafez's fortune will help in this manner

The beloved's curls will be in others' hands