I saw in a sweet dream that I had a cup in my hand

The interpretation went, and the work was referred to the kingdom

We suffered for forty years, and finally

Our plan was in the hands of two-year-old wine

That desired fragrance that I wanted from fate

Was in the Chinese tresses of that musky idol

The intoxication of my sorrow had been taken away at dawn

The favorable kingdom came, and wine was in the cup

I drink blood at the threshold of the tavern constantly

Our daily bread is from the table of the power of this cry

Whoever did not plant love and did not pick a flower of goodness

In the path, the wind was the guardian of the tulip

At the time of dawn, I passed by the side of my garden

At that time, the work of the morning bird was sighs and cries

We saw the charming poetry of Hafez in praise of the king

One verse of this poem was better than a hundred treatises

That swift-attacking king who is like the sun

Before him, on the day of battle, there were fewer gazelles