When I put my hand on his tresses, it spins

And if I seek reconciliation, his head is turned away in rebuke

When the new moon is seen, the wretched ones gaze

It goes to the corner of the eyebrow and is veiled

The night of wine ruins me in wakefulness

And if I complain during the day, it goes to sleep

The path of love is full of turmoil and sedition, O heart

Beware of the one who rushes on this path

Do not sell your beggary to the beloved for a kingdom

For no one goes from the shadow of this door to the sun

When the black hair of the letter is read

The whiteness does not decrease, even if a hundred selections are made

When the bubble is blown, the wind of pride enters its head

And its hat is in the head of wine

You are the veil of the path, Hafez, rise from the middle

Blessed is the one who goes on this path unveiled