One or two cups of mine had happened at dawn

And my wine had fallen from the lip of the cupbearer

From the head of intoxication, again with the witness of the covenant of youth

I wanted to return, but the divorce had been pronounced

In the stages of the path, wherever we traveled

Safety was lost with the game of separation

O cupbearer, give me a cup by cup, for in the journey of the path

Whoever did not come with love was fallen into hypocrisy

O messenger, give me good news, for last night the sun

Was in the sugar sleep of the morning, and the promise was broken

I was drawing a picture, and I was caught by the corner of that intoxicated eye

Patience and endurance were lost from the arch of his eyebrow

If you do not help the religion of King Yahya with kindness

The work of the kingdom and the religion would be lost from order and harmony

Hafez, at that time when he was writing this disordered poem

The bird of his thought was fallen into the trap of longing