The breath is raised, and the desire for you is not fulfilled

Alas, my fate is not waking up from sleep

The breeze threw dust from your direction into my eyes

So that the water of my life is not visible

I do not reach the height of your stature

The tree of my desire and my goal is not reached

Unless the beloved's face is turned towards us

No other work will be done

The heart has settled in your tresses, for it saw the beauty of your writing

And no news comes from that stranger's calamity

I shot a thousand arrows of prayer from the sleeve of sincerity

But what benefit is there, for no effective one comes

In the name of the story of the heart, which is with the morning breeze

But for my fate, the morning will not come tonight

In this thought, the time of my life has passed, and still

The calamity of your black tresses has not come to my head

For Hafez's heart has become a fugitive from everyone

Now, it does not come out of the ring of your tresses