I fear that the tears of our sorrow will become a veil

And this secret will be sealed and become a mystery to the world

They say that the ruby stone becomes a symbol of patience

Yes, it becomes, but it becomes with the blood of the liver

I want to become a weeping and complaining one in the tavern

For perhaps I will be freed from the hand of sorrow there

I have shot the arrow of prayer from every shore

Perhaps one of them will be effective

O soul, tell the story of our love to the beloved

But do not tell it in such a way that the breeze becomes aware

From the alchemy of your love, my face became gold

Yes, by the blessing of your kindness, the earth becomes gold

In the narrowness of my bewilderment, I am proud of my rival

O Lord, may it not be that the beggar becomes respected

There are many things other than beauty that one must have

To be accepted by the nature of people with insight

This pride that is the pinnacle of the palace of union

Heads will be dust at its threshold

Hafez, when the fragrance of his tresses is in your hand

Take a breath, lest the breeze becomes aware