The nightingale's only thought is that the rose has become its companion

The rose is thinking how it can charm it in its work

Captivating hearts is not just about killing lovers

The true master is the one who has the sorrow of serving

It is fitting that blood should surge in the heart of the ruby

From this deceit that breaks the market of earthenware

The nightingale learned to speak from the grace of the rose, otherwise it would not have been

All these words and ghazals are arranged in its beak

O you who pass through the alley of our beloved

Beware, for its wall will break your head

That traveler who has a hundred caravans of hearts with him

Wherever he is, O God, keep him safe

Though the company of your well-being was pleasant, O heart

Do not neglect the side of precious love

The intoxicated Sufi who tilted his hat like this

With two more cups, his turban will be disheveled

Hafez's heart, which had grown accustomed to seeing you

Is pampered by union, do not seek to harm it